


Let's Not Fall in Love Tonight

by doctorfourteen



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gratuitous Smut, Melendaire, Melendaire Monday, Miscarriage, On call room shenanigans, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorfourteen/pseuds/doctorfourteen
Summary: What started off as a platonic friendship that they fought to hide, soon developed into something much more. She was used to using men as a distraction to avoid the drama in her life, but nothing is ever plain sailing when the guy you're sleeping with is also your boss, especially when you're falling in love with him.
Relationships: Claire Browne & Neil Melendez, Claire Browne/Neil Melendez
Comments: 102
Kudos: 222





	1. Attending on Call

_‘Discharge summaries completed. On call room, level 3. C’_

Melendez filters through his emails, most of them are the same-old boring things that he doesn’t need to read. Updates, to long since passed incident reports that no longer require his attention, an email to say that it’s time for him to schedule his annual advanced resuscitation accreditation, a reminder from Jen in HR to say she’s available for debrief and clinical supervision if necessary – the same old hospital staff retention strategies that although he knows are well meaning, read as rather superficial. He’s been in this job for long enough, he’s highlighted safety issues and staffing concerns to HR, but in reply he’ll receive a response telling him his concerns have been ‘noted for consideration’ and he knows he’ll never hear anything about them again. There’s an email from an old work colleague from an attachment he did in Michigan, Professor Edwin, a noted cardiothoracic surgeon has passed away and his funeral is to be hosted a month from now as a celebration of his life, commitment and achievements. Neil should probably go, show his face as a gesture of good-will, if not as a networking opportunity, but he’s profoundly aware that Professor Edwin was a misogynist, racist and harasser in equal amounts and he’s certain at least a handful of blackmail threats will have died with him. The professor was a grand, professional narcissist and the greatest inspiration Neil had ever taken from him was to ensure he was nothing like him.

His phone lights up with the message on his desk as he nurses a flat white that has long since gone cold, vibrating harshly against the glass table as the factory setting notification dings. It’s Claire. His breath hitches for a second and he barely misses a beat as he takes his cell into his hand, a smirk already toying at the edges of his lips. It makes him laugh to himself that she is exactly the kind of thoughtful person who would update him on her to-do list, while also inviting him for sex. He’s sure the nurses are thrilled with her; they always are. Her discharge summaries are completed in a timely manner, her patients are always prescribed appropriate analgesia and always forward thinking enough to prescribe laxatives for any post-operative opioid-induced constipation; she’s the real deal, the whole package and whenever he thinks about her, his heart positively sings. She’s clever, talented, resilient and beautiful. He wishes he could take credit for the kind of doctor she is, but she manages it by herself in her own little way. While the others go about furthering themselves in a cutthroat brutality, kissing ass or stepping on one-another’s toes, she just keeps on practicing, learning and growing. She doesn’t only better herself, she makes him into a better person too, she keeps him on his toes and she never allows him time to become complacent. While he can happily sink into ways of cynicism given opportunity, with her on his team he’s found himself opening up to her and seeing the world as a pretty decent place.

  
He scoffs at himself for a moment, he’s ten minutes away from getting laid and all he can think about is how proud of his resident he is. That’s just the kind of person he’s become and it works for him. He used to be a creature of habit, but things have changed since he first began working with Doctor Claire Browne. Neil closes his laptop, places his mobile phone in the jacket pocket of his exquisitely tailored suit and finds his feet. He feels rather seen, as if half the world knows about what he’s up to already, but so far it’s his best-kept secret. He knows HR doesn’t approve and takes a dim view romantic relationships between similar professionals in the hospital, so he is sure to cover his tracks extra carefully when it comes to the platonic friend-with-benefits relationship he has with his resident, of all people. He’s an attending physician, he can excuse himself based on his value and experience with perhaps a file note or some ‘encouraged’ sabbatical at worst, but for Claire it could be career ending. She’s already worked hard enough for everything she has and he wouldn’t sleep at night if he knew he damaged her livelihood.

Neil makes his way to the proposed on call room with a casual gait, careful to not draw too much attention to himself. Just because it’s 7pm, doesn’t mean there aren’t still enough eyes and ears around to start some sordid rumour. He knows just what people in this place are like – it doesn’t even need to be true for it to gain traction. His pager is tucked onto belt, he’s tonight’s on-call attending surgeon for trauma and while he shouldn’t be bleeped unless there’s a pre-alert for a major trauma, it still doesn’t mean he doesn’t take a moment to make some sort of prayer to whatever forces may be at play to at least allow him privacy for the time being.

“Goodnight, Jerry,” he calls to his colleague who walks in the opposite direction to him, making his way home to his family. Jerry returns his greeting with a makeshift wave from a hand with a briefcase in it. It must be nice, to go home to someone who loves you every day, to see your kids and read them a bedtime story. He would love that someday, if the job were to allow but… ah, enough of that. He stops himself in his tracks, it’s not the kind of thing he really wants to be thinking about right now, he knows if he considers it for too long it’ll settle a dampener on his mood and right now he has other things to think about.

He wonders what Claire’s wearing underneath her scrubs. She always looks beautiful in whatever she wears, she’s one of those people who can catch your attention without even trying. Her hazel-green eyes drawing in your gaze and that smile… she is divine to him. He knows he’s good looking, he’s always been aware of that, he’s used it to his advantage enough times already but with her he still can’t quite believe his luck. What had turned out as drinks after shift, catching a movie or going for a run had eventually progressed into a mutually respectful relationship that just so happened to involve the added bonus of two consenting adults engaging in sex.

* * *

Claire waits in the on call room, sitting on the lower bunk of the bed as she tucks her mobile into the pocket of her lab coat and she’ll be damned but she can feel herself already growing wetter at the thought of his bursting through that door, settling between her legs and fucking her through an orgasm. She finds herself having to cross her legs out of frustration, just thinking about the way he will lace his fingers in between hers as he enters her, looking deeply into her eyes. He’s the first guy she’s really felt any particular connection with, despite all the sex. She’s no stranger to sex, she’s an adult woman with a healthy libido and she’s seen a few guys off and on, most of the time out of boredom or using them as some sort of way to distract herself from whatever else is going on in her life, whether it’s the stress of residency or her private life with her mother, an orgasm is always a pretty sure-fire way of taking your mind off of it all, even if it’s only for 10 minutes with a decent looking guy. She bit her lip, waiting patiently.

She heard a knock at the door, he was nothing if not polite and punctual, she smiled to herself as she opened the door a crack for him, taking his hand just as soon as his foot had crossed the threshold of the entrance as she pulled him into the room. His hand fumbled behind him as it fiddled with the lock on the door, shifting it to engaged as his eyes met with hers.

“Hey, you came.” She offered, a slight rosy blush rising to her cheeks. There was a soft innocence to her tone, every time he comes to see her she’s still filled with some type of feeling of excitement or glee. 

“Of course I came.” He replied, wrapping his fingers around her with the door now firmly locked behind himself – the pair of them were now safely alone in the on call room and they had enough alone time for their clandestine meeting. He sees the blush and the way her lips curve into a beautiful smile as her eyes light up and he just can’t help but wrap his free hand around her waist to pull her in closer to him.

She’s moving onto the tips of her toes as he reels her into him, her body pressed against his as his head bows slightly to her height, his lips meeting hers as he kisses her at first just once… but then he kisses her again and again, each time growing deeper and deeper. He feels the way her breathing hitches as she holds her breath, kissing him back and deepening the kiss.

“It’s been a long day.” She offers him, taking a breath from the kiss. “I wanted to see you…”

“I know, I’m glad you called.” He replies as her hands wrap around her neck and shoulders, fingers wrapping in his dark hair with those slight streaks of salt and pepper. His hand moves slightly, so it’s at the small of her back as his tongue presses to her and he feels the way she moans into the kiss and it sets him alight. He feels his erection starting to tighten in his pants, jumping at the vibration as she moans against his mouth.

“I was thinking about what you said the other day,” she begins as he moves his hand to cup her face and he looks into her eyes deeply.

“Yeah? What’s on your mind?” He asks, barely breaking away from the kiss as his hand roams, rubbing tight circles on his back. He throws his mind back, trying to think about what she could be referring to. Maybe she’s been thinking about the other night when she finally caved and watched The Matrix with him over Chinese food, or their last run in the park on Tuesday morning, or perhaps she’s talking about Saturday night’s drinks at the reclusive but vibrant bar Albi’s, followed by karaoke.

“You said you’re clumsy, that’s why you don’t play the guitar and I thought I could teach you,” she states and he feels the way she smiles into the kiss. “I mean, you’re so good with your hands already, it should be a real walk in the park.” She laughs and _god_ , he’s so turned on he can barely think anymore.

“Yeah? You think I’d make a good student?” He grins, his hand playing with the edges of her scrub top, her hands moving down to help him take it off, leaving her bra now exposed to him. He shrugs his jacket shirt off, fingers thumbing at the buttons of his shirt as if he’s desperate to get it off now.

“I think you’d be an excellent student.” She laughs, kissing his jawline as she breaks away from him for a moment to her waistband to shimmy her scrub pants off.

“I am a quick learner, I’m sure you know that by now.” She crinkles her nose as she grins, pressing her back against the wall as he drops his shirt to the floor. She takes a moment to admire his tattoo, drinking in the sight of his body.

“Mmm, you are.” She says as he presses against her again, pinning her against the wall as he kisses her lips, then her jaw, then her neck and collar, he peppers kiss after kiss along her flesh and she feels like her skin is on fire as he works her up. Her hands wrap in his hair again as he works his way down her skin, his hands wrapping around her back to unfasten the clasp of her bra as she allows him to peel it away. “You’re good at this.” She adds, as her bra drops to the floor and he kisses her breasts, kneading them with his hands, his fingers play with her nipples as he kisses and nips and sucks at her flesh, moving lower and lower until he’s kneeling in front of her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into her skin, she feels the soft prickle of his stubble and her hands in his hair tightens slightly and she moans in response. His fingers are at the waistband of her panties and he sees a wet stain on the fabric as he peels them down, his lips still working their way down her belly and she steps out of her panties. He throws them behind himself, wrapping his hands around her waist to draw her in closer. “I could stay here forever,” he adds as he places a kiss at the top of her mound, deliberately taking his time as he kisses again and again, lowering slightly each time.

“Oh god, Neil.” She pleads with him, she clamps her thighs closed tightly as she squeezes to give herself some sort of feeling of relief or something as he takes his time. His hand moves to her breast as he continues to kiss her mound, playing with her sensitive nipple that already stands erect. He’s so good at everything he does and it frustrates her more and more as she keens as he places a kiss just over her clit.

“Relax for me honey,” he coos against her, she feels him exhale as he looks into her eyes as she relaxes her thighs, the stubble of his long on call shift grazing the apex of her thigh. She gasps as he places a hand, opening the lips of her pussy to expose her clit to him as he blows air over it and she gasps, inhaling sharply and covering her mouth with her hand. His hand moves from her breast, to take her hand from her mouth. “Let me hear you,” he offers reassuringly as his fingers entwine with hers again. He holds her hand as he opens her to him and her back arches while he licks a long strip of her pussy, deliberate and slow and he hears a softly strangled moan as she holds her breath. He licks again, each stroke agonisingly long and slow, kissing her clit each time and she gasps, holding his hand tighter and tighter as her back arches away from the wall, trying to gain some kind of traction, while her legs feel like jelly.

“You’re so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful.” He tells her, kissing her clit, her pussy and her thighs, his eyes meeting hers while he continues to hold her hand. “You’re the most talented, intelligent and incredible woman I have ever met,” he tells her as he kisses her pussy again and she inhales sharply, the insides of her thighs slick now with her own juices as his mouth laps at her core. “I wish I could stay here forever, just make you feel good. You deserve this Claire, I want to make you feel so good.” He repeats, and she moans, keening with a high-pitched noise as his mouth wraps around her clit.

  
“Oh god, Neil— shit,” she says as she’s lost for words. She has her attending physician, her boss and mentor on his knees in front of her, practically worshiping her and she can’t think of anything to say as her mind is overrun, filled with pleasure. She holds onto his hand tightly as his sucks and carefully nips at her clit, kissing and teasing at her. His hand pulls her further into him and she closes her eyes as her back arches further away from the wall. His hand rubs small circles on her thighs. Her moans have turned into a keening whine, growing higher and higher in pitch as he works her up and her mind is almost entirely blank now.

He moans against her, the vibrations of his voice sending a shudder as she moans his name, with a sharp inhale. “Oh god, Neil— Neil…” she repeats, not sure what she’s trying to say because the words just won’t form and it feels like her legs are jelly. “Neil, please—,” she says, not sure what she’s begging him for, but she repeats her words “Neil… Neil, please—,” he pauses for a moment at her thighs.

“Are you alright, Claire?” He looks at her, he sees that her eyes are fixed on the ceiling as her thighs tremble. “Claire, look at me…?” He asks of her, placing a careful kiss at her mound and she quakes again and moans, her eyes fix on his.  
  


“I’m gonna come, Neil.” She whines, her knuckles whiten as her eyes fix on the erection in his boxers. He’s working her up so quickly and she can’t help but feel guilty for a moment that she’s on the receiving end of all this pleasure, but she can barely make sense of anything as he licks another strip, his tongue firm as it plays with her swollen clit.

“That’s alright, sweetie. You can come.” He says, focusing on her solely.

She keens, high pitched. “Oh god, Neil, I’m gonna come.” He doubles down on his ministrations, focusing on her and her alone.

“Come for me, sweetie.” He says, the rasping vibrations of his words sending her over the edge as she says his name again, but it’s lost in a breathless moan as his hand holds her in place to keep her upright as she rocks against his mouth, as she comes.

“Neil— I… oh god,” she says, words almost entirely senseless now. He peppers her mound with kisses all over, still holding onto her with such gentle care as she comes against him. Her orgasm feels as if it lasts for a lifetime, she pants and inhales heavily as she finally comes down from it. “That was incredible…” she says, as his mouth returns to her pussy to lick a long stripe, sucking at her clit again as the hand that held her upright now moves lower and he places one finger in as he hears her gasp, when she’s adjusted he places another finger in her.

“I want you to come for me again, baby,” he says as his fingers fuck her and she squirms under his grasp.

“What about you? You’re getting nothing out of this. I’m the one getting mind-blowing orgasms and you’re on your knees.” She says, writhing as he works her up again.

“Trust me, I’m getting plenty out of this. You’re so beautiful, you taste so good.” He tells her, fucking her with his fingers as he sucks on her clit. She feels like she’s hurtling towards her orgasm at speed now, she is holding her breath as she forgets to breathe as she feels her next orgasm growing in the pit of her belly already.

“I’m gonna come again,” she says, as if she has to warn him, she can feel him smile against her thigh as he kisses the apex of her thigh. Behind them, his pager bleeps and she hears him grumble between her legs. “You should get that,” she says, her words high in pitch as she moans between words.

“It can wait, we’re busy.” He offers, soothing her as his hand disentangles from hers so he can knead her breasts again, rolling her nipple between his thumbs and she doesn’t even have time to argue with him to any other outcome as her orgasm sneaks up on her and she presses herself against his mouth, her hands covering her mouth to stop anyone from hearing her as she comes violently against him. “That’s it sweetie, come for me.” He soothes her, pressing kisses against her belly as she comes, his pager barely interrupting her as her mind unable to focus on anything other than the white-hot pleasure that seems to fill her. As she comes down, he licks the come from her pussy, lapping at her core, which seems to trigger another orgasm that follows hot on the heels of another. She gasps, chest heaving as she comes for a third time and his hands grasp at her waist to guide her safely onto the ground as her legs give-way. Her mouth meets his, as she tastes herself on his lips, kissing him deeply.

Neil holds her in his arms as she rests on his lap, boneless. He kisses her in response as she has landed herself awkwardly on his clothed thigh, her wet pussy against the material of his pants and it makes her pussy tingles again. Her arms entwine themselves around his neck again, her eyes fixed on hers. “You are so good at this,” she says, as if she feels obliged to provide some sort of commentary and it only makes him smile. She shifts herself on his lap, but it sets some sort of spark in her belly, his hands move to her waist as her back arches again as she rocks himself back and forth on his thigh, fucking herself on his leg, rubbing herself closer and closer to her orgasm. His pager beeps again, but she truly couldn’t care less as she chases her orgasm, his hands on her hips stabilise her as he keeps in her place, mesmerised by her hazel-green eyes, his lips at her neck as his teeth nip at the skin along her jawline.

“That’s it my love, you’re so beautiful. I could come just from watching you fuck yourself like this. His lips are so close to her ear, her mind is hazy from her earlier orgasms but it drives her closer and closer to the edge.

  
“Neil, I’m so close…” she keens again to him, her arms on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she continues to grind herself against him, moving forwards and backwards rhythmically.

“I never knew you had it in you, I wish you could see yourself – getting yourself off, fucking my thigh.” He whispers in her ear, she feels the heat of his breath on her skin and it sends a final tingle down her spine as she stops with a deep inhale, holding herself as she comes again, he moves so he can watch how her face twists with absolute pleasure as she comes and he loves watching her… he smiles as she finally collapses into him, leaning over his shoulder as he kisses her on the forehead. “You did so good, baby girl.” He says, commending her and she feels as if she needs to tell him he isn’t so bad, but it’s like she’s completely suspended in time, she’s completely run out of energy.

She kisses him on the lips as she comes down from her orgasm and he smiles at her. “I need to go, whoever is paging me it must be urgent…” he says, reluctantly, wishing he could stay here with her forever in their own little corner.

“I know,” she says. She’s filled with a regret, she’s the only one who’s come, she knows she’ll have the owe him… she wishes he didn’t have to leave. “I’m sorry… Neil.” He sees the way her face has turned, sees that sadness at her eyes. His hand moves to cup her cheek; he plays with a stray strand of hair, brushing it away from her face.

“Hey, hey,” he begins, pressing a kiss to her lips, then her cheek and her forehead. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, this just means we’ll have to meet up again. That’s a pretty good thing, if you ask me.” He grins and she sighs softly, she loves his smile and even though she wishes she could sleep in his arms and they could forget all about the world – she knows he has to go.

“This weekend, let’s go for dinner, then maybe I can beat you at Scrabble and we can watch a movie… and maybe pick up where we left off…?” She offers, climbing off his thigh as he helps her, her legs still like jelly as she stands, starting to pick up her discarded clothes from the floor. His smile widens at her suggestion.

“I like that idea, this weekend sounds good.”

“I like that idea too.” His heart sings as she smiles in return.


	2. Takeout for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire's learning to open up, Melendez is in awe of her strength of spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reaaaally struggled with this chapter, I've re-written around 3 iterations of it. I felt so cheated by the season finale's ending combined with being a nurse right now with all that's going on just really a bit overwhelming. After the season finale I just wanted a quiet moment of introspection and coping in their relationship, especially about coping with emotions in their jobs. Anyways, shout out to Melendez again for being a journal reading nerd. You can't tell me he doesn't randomly stockpile journals and magazines just in case he needs them again for some very obscure purpose. If I can rework the drafts that I didn't like into the story again somehow, they'll deffo feature (somehow)

Neil’s had another pretty late night by his ordinary standards. He is hardly a creature of any particular routine, being an attending surgeon makes it pretty impossible for him to predict the twists and turns in his life, but when he gets the opportunity to stay home and catch up on football with a beer and turn in for the night early, he’s never one to balk at the idea. Lately he’s had plenty on his mind, both work-related and extracurricular, but today he’d found it harder to disengage from his work life when a 16-year-old had selflessly donated his organs after being hit by a drunk driver. He’d kept his cool, had acted respectfully to the donor and checked in on his residents after, but when you’re an attending those checking in on you can be pretty few and far between. As he sat alone at home, with the TV on full volume to offset the eerie silence of nothingness, he poured over the articles in the US Trauma Cardiothoracics Association’s quarterly edition as tried to make himself believe that his reluctance to go to bed was to do with his intrigue in the leaps in research towards a new mechanical implant device to salvage dissected tricuspid valves after severe trauma expected to be FDA approved by November. _Maybe it’s time to get a dog?_ He thought to himself, with a heaving sigh he closed his laptop, leaving behind a half finished beer as he headed towards the bathroom, ready to call it a night. Tomorrow was always another day and he lived by the belief that the sun would always rise on a new day.

As he rested his head on his pillow, his mind was pressed with the thoughts of Claire. He wanted to speak to her, but right now didn’t really have the words to say and he could imagine that she wouldn’t either. He hadn’t seen her leave work today, her shift had finished long before the man had been taken to the OR for organ collection, but she had stayed behind and waited patiently by the mother’s side, providing what minimal emotional support she could while Shaun and Morgan had assisted him in surgery. He had taken the mother’s hands in his own and thanked her for her agreement in the donation of his organs while Claire had reassured her that he would take excellent care of her son. The last he had seen of Claire that day was her knelt on the floor with the mother in her arms, running a hand carefully through her hair while she sobbed and while she had been the vision of professionalism he had seen the sadness in her eyes. He didn’t see her after that, he assumed she’d taken herself home for an early night, to rest and recover, that he would see her again bright in the early morning and ready to face another day.

He picked his mobile from his bedside table, propping himself up on the headboard, trying to construct some sort of message to send to her.

_“Hey, hope you’re alright. Just checking in on you.” He_ deleted it. What if she didn’t want checking in on?

_“Hello.”_ No, that’s too formal.

_“I was just thinking about you and…”_ No, that sounded a little weird.

“Today was tough. Call me if you need me.” Send. That’d do, he’d see her tomorrow. She knew where he was if she needed him. A vision of her sad expression crossed his mind and it made him ache in the pit of his belly, he hated seeing that way and he knew if there was any way to take that suffering away from her, he would without reservation. But part of how much she felt was what made her so special, in meeting her he had learned so much about how to be humble and to feel what those around you are feeling. She’d taught him a whole new approach where he was unashamed to feel in the grief and joy of the ups and downs of the lives of his patients. It had made him a better surgeon to understand his patients so intimately. He had years of experience on her though and those years had taught him how to detach from his work, to disengage for his own sanity, while Claire was simply kind to a fault and sometimes it would fester in her. But she was working on it and that’s all that really mattered. Her strength and reserve were incredible to him, she was so special to him that at times he feared she was a mirage and if he touched her, she would vanish.

“God, I need to stop thinking about Claire.” He grumbled aloud to himself.

His phone lit up, her photo flashed up on his screen. His heart bounded as he quickly picked up.

“Hey,” he answered. There was a silence, a deep breath. “Claire?” Instinctively he imagined the worst, that she was in a wreck somewhere, she was sick or injured. He felt the adrenaline rush as in rapid succession all the worst case scenarios run through his mind.

“Hey, it’s Claire.” She spoke softly, feeling the need to introduce herself to him. She was in work mode again; it was if he could hear the way her mind was reeling with the day playing out over and over again. “I’m in my car, on the freeway. I picked up way too much pizza to eat on my own and was thinking about coming over. Do you mind?” 

He hears that slight distance in her voice, the way her radio plays terribly cheesy 80s music in the background. It makes him smile for a moment, he has never seen the inside of her car, but he can already imagine what it’s like. He wonders if she keeps it neat and tidy, or if it’s cluttered. He can’t actually imagine for a moment that she would have a hair out of place, she’s not really the type of person for that.

“You know you’re always welcome at my place.” He offers to her and he hears a short silence. She’s speechless and the gap leaves him hanging. _Oh god, has he said too much? Come across as too over-zealous? Maybe overstepped a boundary._

She doesn’t know what to say, her boss has just said she’s always welcome in his home and she feels a blush rising that she’s desperately grateful he can’t see, instead in response her hands tighten on the steering wheel and she bites her lip.

“Okay, cool. I’m on my way. Anything you want picking up?”  
  
“I’m sure whatever you choose will be fine. I’ll set the table.” _Setting the table for casual pizza? Oh god, everything that comes from his mouth is ridiculous. This is just going from bad to worse. He berates himself in his mind, her silence seems like it lasts for hours. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

hims

“I’m really glad you said that. I already ordered and I was hoping you’d say yes. I’ll see you soon.”

“Gotcha, see you soon Claire. Drive safe.” He warns.

* * *

Neil tries to straighten up his home, tosses a couple of old journals into the trash before wondering if he’ll need them at a later date, instead he fishes them out of the bin, dusting them off and putting them back on his desk. He’s very certain that he’s not a hoarder, his house is impeccable and minimalistic, but there’s certain things he just finds it that piece harder to let go of. He hesitates on the spot as his attention is drawn for a moment to the photograph of himself and Gabby just a handful of years ago at New Year. It had been the first New Year he hadn’t worked, the first few years as an attending had been tough, it hadn’t been all that easy to break the glass and establish himself, he’d felt like he had something to prove and something to show the world. It took a long time before he had settled into a workable routine. For how much he regretted it though, he had missed his sister dearly. She had the best medical care money could buy, was looked after in a state of the art facility and it was all a way to hide the guilt when he couldn’t see her. There had always been some sort of reason, the late nights, the long weeks and the brutality of the shift pattern. When he’d see her, it was with dark circles under his eyes or stifling a yawn, he hadn’t meant to become so disengaged when everything he had strived for had centred around her – to give her the best life he could: To be both their mom and dad.

“I really think you’d like her, Gabby.” He tells the portrait. “She’s real smart, she’s clever, witty, talented and beautiful. She’s got a real heart of gold. Sometimes she’s naïve and prone to her feelings, but that’s just what makes her so special. You’d get on really well.” He decides, making a mental note to visit her this week. He’s better now, at the work-life balance, but that’s just because he’s had the time to practice it and work on it. He was at a secure stage in his life, he was good at what he did and he had an incredible bunch of residents to mentor. One way or another, his life was pretty alright.

That didn’t mean that he still didn’t long for things. He’d decided that was natural, to always want more than what you have. He’d grown accustomed to apologising for what he wanted, to adjust to be more like the other person in the relationship. Instead as time had gone on, he was used to shrugging dreams off in the name of ‘work’ and ‘balance’. But now he had a greater purpose, he wasn’t who he was for the sake of it, or in the name of love; he was who he needed to be for his residents, their interns and above all for Claire.

A knock at the door interrupted Neil’s thoughts as he crashed down to earth, realising just how little he’d managed to tidy in the process of finding himself distracted and he’d failed in his promise to set the table – which was probably just as well, as he would’ve probably embarrassed himself, he decided.

He ruffles his hair quickly with a hand, inhaling deeply as he prepares himself. He’s not really sure what, but he feels an uneasiness in his belly and it’s like his heart leaps and bounds as he opens the door and sees her standing there. She is dressed in an effortlessly casual way, but she always looks so beautiful and he’s lost for words aside from the “hey Claire, come in!” he’s rehearsed as he walked to the door.

“Hey there,” she beams. She extends her arms slightly, displaying the pizza boxes to him. “I didn’t know if you liked cheese or not, but then I thought everyone likes cheese so I got a… sorry, here.” She offers the boxes to him, shuffling off her shoes to examine his home.

She’s been here before, they’ve met at his place before going out for a run, but it seems suddenly very personal and it feels to her like she’s seeing his home for the first time again with fresh eyes.

“Come in, make yourself comfortable. Beer?”

“Yeah, sure. Beer sounds good.”

“I mean… I do have other drinks, if you don’t like beer. It’s just that I liked beer so assumed—.”

“It’s fine, beer is fine.” She laughs, trying to reassure him. She’s seen him naked, they’ve had sex before and yet he’s never felt more vulnerable as she perches herself on a chair and waits for him patiently. He offers her the beer and sits at her side, opening the pizza box and digging in.

“Cheers,” he offers to her as they toast with their pizza. She seems to graze lightly on the edges of her pizza, he’s taken enough lunch breaks with her to know that something’s on her mind. She’s not always the kind of person to open up so freely, sometimes it’s because she doesn’t know how to voice what she’s said. She never really had the protective figure growing up that listened to her worries and woes after a long, hard day and it’s taking her a while to adjust. She’s still rather incredulous every time someone is willing to listen to her speaking.

Neil waits patiently for her, he won’t press her. They have all the time in the world, he knows when she’s ready she will tell him what’s on her mind.

“I read a particularly interesting article about mechanical replacements for the tricuspid valve, due to be particularly safe and effective: Reduced risk of contamination, greater longevity and spiritual complexity that their bovine counterparts, they could be something exciting.” He remarks, but she snorts as he speaks, a smile forming.

  
“Can’t you hear yourself?”

“What?” He asks, incredulously. “How can you _not_ be excited by valve replacement?”

“Really? We’re in _your_ home and that’s what you want to talk about? I can literally see a baby photo right over there and you’re telling me about something work related.” She gestures vaguely towards a small photo in a frame placed far back.

“Ah, I see. So pizza was a ruse to get to see my baby pictures was it? Damn, I didn’t know you had it in you.” He feigns hurt, she laughs. He loves when she laughs, loves that little way she crinkles her nose and tries to hold back a snort. He loves how unabashedly open and herself she is when she’s with him, it’s like he’s privy to a very perfect, secret little world.

“No, no—no.” She backpedals, flustered now. “I just mean… I’m in your home and you’re dipping behind the façade of work again.”

“How do you know I’m not relentlessly fascinated by bovine transplantation?”

“I bet you were one of those kids at school with all the posters of skeletons, diagrams and body parts on your bedroom wall.”

“Oh, so _now_ you want to see my bedroom too?” He asks, tauntingly, he sees how flustered he’s made her. The heat rises to her face, a flush on her cheeks and she feels like she should crawl inside a hole and let the earth swallow her up. “I’m always listening to you, you know?” He remarks. “Whether you want to talk or not right now, when you’re ready to talk, we can talk. Or if you never want to talk about anything ever again, we don’t have to.”

“I’m just finding it hard to process what happened today.” She tells him, she pulls her knees beneath herself, so she is partly kneeling on his couch. She picks at the slice of pizza that he’s noticed she’s barely touched and it worries him. He’s seen her grieve before, he knows the cycles she falls into and he worries that this time he won’t be able to reach in to pull her out. He watches how she fiddles with the slice of pizza in her hands, tearing tiny pieces off and eating it slowly, she’s purposefully avoiding his gaze.

“That kid died and we couldn’t save him…” She finally relents, dropping the fussed food in the pizza box.

“No, we couldn’t. But not everyone can be saved, sometimes it’s about managing the damage, palliation, supportive care. Saving someone is the most obviously heroic part of being a doctor, but sometimes it’s the littlest things that matter most. That mother will never forget you.”

“I know,” she begins, trailing off as she tries to verbalise what she wants to say, but the words seem trapped somewhere or lost. He places his arm around her, scoots in slightly closer and she rests her head on his shoulder. Even if she doesn’t know what to say, he’s there and that’s enough. He feels warm and safe and the realisation that she’s never truly been held like this before hits her like a freight train. Sure, she’s been with guys and she’s had friends and boyfriends but none really comparable to the boss that she’s actually sleeping with. It’s all a complicated mess and the lines are getting awfully blurred, but just for a moment absolutely none of it matters when all she wants is for someone to just hold her and tell that no matter what, it’ll all be okay.

“We don’t have to talk about this, if you don’t want to.” He tells her simply, quietly. His cheek presses against the crown of her head as he tries to soothe her in any way he knows how, his hand rubbing small circles on her arm. He feels that burden as the weight of the world presses on her shoulders. He knows how strong she is and he only wishes she could see herself in the same light he sees her. There’s something greater that’s pressing on her mind, something that’s been brewing and this is just the straw that broke the camels back. Instead he just sits with her in his arms and he waits, waits for her to talk or to not talk. Whatever she needs from him.

“What if… what if when I’d driven my mom to drink, she’d killed someone else instead of just herself? What kind of doctor would that make me?” Her cadence softens, the words higher in pitch as her voice trembles.

“It’d make no difference to the doctor you are, Claire. You didn’t drive your mom to drink. You can’t hold yourself accountable for all these things. You can’t keep punishing yourself over and over again, when will you decide enough is enough?”

“I just…” she let’s out a heartrending sob and shuffles closer into his embrace. “When I held that kid’s mom today, I watched her grieve and for a moment, only for a moment I wondered what it’d be like to be loved in that way.”

“You are loved though, Claire.” He soothes.

“No, I mean loved by a mother.” Her heart aches and the tears are now falling freely. “Because I want to love her too and want to forgive her, but I just can’t. I am bitter and spiteful, just because of the way I was born. I know how wrong and ungrateful I am but I can’t _not_ hate her and when I held that woman in my arms today, for a moment I felt _jealous_ that this kid has a mom that loves him so much and even though how wrong I know it was to think that, I still did.”

“You’re none of those things Claire. Your mom had her own problems, she had an addiction to alcohol and you know as well as I do that it’s a disease. What she said was because she was sick. You are not responsible for your parents; you can’t hold yourself accountable for all the bad things you encounter because in this job it can break you. There are a lot of very bad things and bad people in the world Claire, but you aren’t one of them. But holding onto that grief isn’t good for you, it doesn’t make you stronger and you don’t get awards for managing on your own. Living is a team effort and being a doctor is a team effort. You are solely responsible for no one.”

She’s lost for words, or maybe too choked up to voice them. Instead she buries herself in the crook of his neck as she gives way to sobs as he holds and her shushes her. He cradles her in his arms with his fingertips twisting in her hair until the anger has left her and her tears begin to dry.

“Today I was just so mad, because someone decided to drive while drunk. Bad things are happening all the time and I can’t stop them. I thought being a doctor was about being good, about the right choice being easy because that’s what the books tell you… but I don’t know which is the right choice. How do I know I made the right call at the end of the day?”

“Tomorrow people will die too and the day after that and the day after that. You can’t stop everyone from dying Claire.”

“I just don’t want to be alone.”

“I can’t promise you’ll never be alone, just like I can’t promise no one else will die because the job we do faces mortality every day and you just have to know how that whatever happens you did your best. You do your best every day, you are the most wonderful and awe-inspiring woman I’ve come across and you will move mountains. Your grief will pass, it’ll take time and I can’t tell you how long it’ll take but every now and again you’ll notice it, but this time it’ll hurt just a little bit less than the last time.”

Claire is lost for words, instead she shifts his head onto his lap and her hand entangles itself in his and it feels like there’s something more the pair of them wants to say, but neither of them will say it. He feels every time her breath heaves with a stray sob or when she sniffles. Her hand entwines with his as she hangs onto him, just in case he strays too far from her, at least until the feeling passes. Neil watches over her as her sobs grow fewer and further between, until they’re quieter. He doesn’t move, he let’s her just lay there in his lap until the ache fades and she is soon overcome with exhaustion and tiredness as her eyes grow heavy. He rests his head over hers, cocooning her in his arms and his stays there for a little while, just watching her sleep… as if he is sworn to a duty to protect her from everything he can. He’s her attending, her senior and by whatever ethereal forces matches her to his hospital, along with her colleagues she has ended up in his care.

While she sleeps in his arms, he is mesmerised by her and he would gladly stay like this for an eternity. He soon enough falls asleep with his head on hers.


	3. Sweet Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's learning more about her every day. He's also learned that every new thing he learns about her, the more in love with her he falls. It's nothing ice cream, contemplation and sex can't patch over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely feedback! I feel like I got my mojo back a little with this now and my sad shipper heart is starting to recover. Hope you're all safe and well <3

“Stop, stop, stop, stop.” Claire called ahead, grinding to a halt.

“What’s the matter? Are you out of energy already? We’ve barely even started the first lap of the park.” Neil teased her, falling back into step with her.

“Firstly, I never run out of energy – I could run rings around you. Secondly, I just saw an ice cream truck and everyone knows you don’t pass up on an ice cream truck. It’s like not waving to paramedics when you pass them on the road.”

“You wave to paramedics?”

“And fire fighters. You don’t?”

“I mean… it never really occurred to me to try.”

“Well now you know. They’re an incredibly hard working population with poor workers rights and job protection. They do a lot of the hard work long before the patient even gets to hospital. Without them, who’s going to extract them from a car wreck or start CPR on route?”

“So… as a gesture of thanks, you wave to them? Each to their own.” He smiles, she has so many unique and special traits and every time she reveals another part of her personality to him he feels privileged to learn something knew about her. She could tell him the most obscure part of her day, like she chose to reverse into a parking spot and he would listen intently with baited breath.

“I’m going to get an ice cream cone, you want one?” She asks, he raises a brow at her, his face shifting into an idiotic grin.

“Sure, ice cream never hurt anyone.”

“Can I get two cones please, with sprinkles. Double sprinkles on one please.” He watched her take the ice cream, with a childish glee in her eye as she handed one to him. He stifled a laugh as he watched her, settling onto a park bench.

“So, you have a sweet tooth?” He asked.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”

“I don’t know, it’s just not something I’ve ever really thought about before. I mean you always order dessert, even if that means you don’t eat anything else. I know your favourite protein bar flavour is birthday cake, but it just never really occurred to me to put two and two together.”

“How did you notice my favourite protein bar?” She asks, she feels a little shy now in front of him, she recoils into the park bench as he turns to face her. He knows the most explicit things about her and it’s never even crossed her mind that anyone would be paying such deliberate attention.

“You have the same thing for breakfast every day. You have a cup of black coffee and a protein bar before pre-rounding.” He tells her, as if he’s sleuthed some top secret information about her, he feels like the worlds most brilliant detective. He omits to tell her that he’s habitually 15 minutes earlier to shift now, just so he can watch her prepare for rounds at 09:00 on the dot. He watches her from a distance as she will laugh with a patient, or offer a caring smile or a hand on the shoulder and an ear in the most trying times. Every day she interacts with every single person with a respect he’s grown to understand and incorporate into his own professionalism. She can reel off test results, labs, omitted medications, but she can also tell him that the patient lives with his wife in a third floor apartment, that he’s been struggling financially since he was laid off so he hasn’t been able to pay for his meds, that he’s been under a lot of stress lately.

_She’s brilliant._

“What about you?” She asks, seriously but furrows her brow when his smile only widens into a cheesy grin. “What?”

“You have ice cream on your nose.” He tells her, using his thumb to wipe it off for her. Her eyes cross as he watches her thumb getting closer and closer to her nose, she’s fixed to the spot as she watches him. He hesitates, after he has wiped the tip of her nose, he’s just looking at her face and he realises he’s never truly looked at her eyes before. Sure, he’s seen her eyes before, he knows she has beautiful eyes. But he’d never really noticed that peridot sparkle framed by thick, dark eyelashes. She blushes in response, she doesn’t say anything, she just offers him a thankful nod. He coughs, looking away and pretending to be fixated on a tree or something, or deep in thought. He furrows his brow especially, to make the moment of thought look particularly intense. _Oh god, now he’s just embarrassing himself._

“I’m more of a savoury food kind of guy, but I love pecan pie. When I was in med school I lived in this block of apartments in a really run down side of town, you know, typical student life, eating instant noodles and beans from a can. But there was this food vendor not far from school, he sold the best pecan pie. I always used to pick up a slice when I left for spring break to take back to my sister, Gabby. I mean, she hates pie, but even she thinks it’s the best. That was a good few years back now, I think he owns some sort of restaurant upstate. I hope he still makes the pie, it was a damn good pie. The right balance between creamy and nutty, with a flaky pastry to boot.”

“If you think that’s impressive, just wait until you learn about peanut butter. I never really imagined you as a pie-kinda-guy.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“I don’t know, I just can’t even begin to imagine you as a struggling med student now. You seem like the kind of person who was just born oozing confidence and charisma. I thought you’d spend every hour outside school in extra-curricular stuff, being class president or something.”

“Well, I was class president and on the track and football teams, but I still had time for pecan pie.” She giggled, her face flushed.

“The weather is changing, huh?”

“Oh no, you don’t get away from it that easy. Tell me about med-student-Claire.”

“Uh, awkward, busy. I had two jobs; I was living from month to month, trying to send enough home to my mom for her to pay her rent. She wouldn’t always use the money for rent, I don’t know where it went, I never really thought to ask why. I guess I didn’t want to know. I kinda wanted to live this fantasy life that back home, my mom was getting excited for my phone calls and telling her friends all about me. She never picked up the phone, not unless there was something she needed. I wrote to her for a little while, but it was all pretty tiring, you know? But I knew I wanted to be the best doctor out there, a brilliant surgeon. I guess I was a pretty competitive person. I think I still am pretty competitive.”

“Just a little,” he remarked. She laughs, but it comes out as a snort.

“For what it’s worth, I think she missed out on one hell of a daughter.” He sees the way she examines his expression, trying to work out if he’s being sincere or not, he feels a twinge of sadness because even now when he’s trying to tell her why he admires her so much, she still can’t believe him or see what he sees. To him, she’s the most extraordinary woman and she’s been pulled in so many directions for so long, she can only see the patterns of abuse and manipulation as normal and instead when someone compliments her, it must be some sort of joke or way to gain something from her.

He sees there’s a slight sheen on her eyes, a layer of emotion that’s building up and threatens to break free. He sees how vulnerable she is when she’s around him; he sees how she slowly bares her soul to him. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead just hesitates. She closes her mouth as she thinks of the words, of something to say but she can’t figure out how to explain the way he makes her feel.

Claire wishes she knew a way to explain to him the way her heart skips a beat when he looks at her, or the way a heat rises to her collar when he showers her with the affection she’s never really had before, wishes she could tell him how unreservedly she trusts him; that she’s told him things she’s never told anyone before, or she’s telling him the things she’s been afraid to even think.

“You’re special, Claire. Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.”

She’s chastising herself mentally, willing herself to speak. He sees the way a number of memories surface when her lips part to speak, but nothing comes out. “You don’t have to say anything, just… you’re important to me. I hope you understand that.”

“Thank you,” she replies, but her voice has gone all quiet and the world sound petty and tiny when she says them, while he makes them sound so sincere. She wants to tell him how much she admires and respects him, wishes she could be like him, wishes she could spend every waking moment with him for the rest of their lives because she just wants to learn everything about him. She loves the way he fiddles with his cufflinks in meetings when he’s fed up, but he’s biting his tongue out of respect or how when he falls asleep in the on call room, his hair always has one strand that seems determined to go the opposite way to the rest of his hair. She wants to tell him how whole he makes her.

“You’re right, the weather is changing and we’ve just eaten ice cream. That sounds like a hypothermic disaster waiting to happen.”

“That’s not how thermoregulation works, you make humans sound like we’re lizards.”

“You’re not a lizard too?” He feigns disappointment. “Then we’re from two totally different worlds, it’ll never work out.” He jokes and she laughs again. He rises to his feet and holds his hand out to her and she takes it. His hands are always warm, no matter the weather. She remembers apologising to a patient as she examined them, warning them that her hands were cold. ‘ _Cold hands, warm heart!’_ the lady had chimed. She had liked that – she’d kept that memory safely locked away in her mind somewhere.

“Do you want to come back to my place?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve been thinking of getting a dog, by the way.” He tells her. “I’ve been reading this book on dogs and they’re supposed to be good companions. I’ve even done some research on breeds.”

“Is that what you were so engrossed in over lunch the other day?”

“What? When?” He laughs.

“Thursday afternoon, you were reading something very intently on your laptop and Donna your scribe was grumbling that you kept wasting your printing budget.” She inhales deeply, her mouth wide in shock. “You were researching dogs then weren’t you!”

“Of course I was, what else is a respectable surgeon going to do otherwise on his lunch break? You residents are so engrossed in your textbooks, CDC and WHO guideline updates that I was starting to feel left out. Shall I let you into a secret? When you were an intern, your resident asked you to check for updated guidelines daily so they could get a break from you.”

“Residents can do that?” She asked, incredulous. She felt like she had been let into the dirtiest secret in medical history.

“You’re a resident, trying to focus on not killing anyone, but then you’re responsible for four interns and you’re trying to stop them from killing anyone too. Sometimes the best thing you can do, if there’s no catheters or blood gas sticks that need doing… is just to occupy them.”

“No way.” She scoffs.

“Yes, way.” He replies. He sees the way it’s ticking over in her mind.

“That’s brilliant.”

“I am brilliant.”

“You’re modest too.”

“Oh yes, so modest. All the best attending cardiothoracic surgeons are renowned for their incomparable modesty. It’s practically the entry criteria into any club.” He laughs and she takes him by the arm as he walks with her back to his home.

* * *

“Hey, have you seen my toothbrush?” Claire calls out from the bathroom. “I’m pretty sure I left a spare here. It’s blue.”

“Check under the sink, I put your things on your shelf. After I nearly showered with your soap, I started keeping your things separately.” Neil responds, shouting back to her from the kitchen where he chops the ingredients for his post-run smoothie.

“I have a shelf?” She asked, peering into the cupboard.

“Of course you do, you keep leaving things here all the time and seeing as you end up coming here after we go running most days, I figured it was probably time to make room for some of your things.”

“That’s so sweet, you have a shelf for me.” She coos.

“It’s functional too, if we both go to work smelling like your frangipane soap, everyone will know we’re sleeping together.”

“Do people really pay attention to the smell of soap?”

“You’d be surprised. Besides, you always use the same soap. It’s hardly a coincidence, you’re the only one I know who uses frangipane scented soap.”

“It’s sweet smelling, I like it. People say lavender is supposed to be relaxing, but it just reminds me of gym class nightmares and dollar store shower gel.” She reaches down, collecting her toothbrush. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” She calls out to him, words muffled by the toothbrush in her mouth.

“Any particular one?”

  
“Just a t-shirt please.”

  
He appears in the doorway, he knocks on the door and she turns around. He’s got his eyes scrunched closed as he blindly holds out a t-shirt to her.

“You can look, you know?” He opens one eye carefully, then the other. “Hey, my hair tie snagged. You don’t have a spare one or an elastic band maybe?” She asks.

“Uh, I think there’s maybe a spare in the medicine cabinet. Audrey used to leave them here all the time. I don’t know why I never really got rid of them, it just feels strange to put someone else’s stuff in the trash, I suppose.” He muses aloud. He sees her expression shift carefully, she’d never really thought about her Chief being here, sleeping in his bed or showering in his bathroom. Her Chief seems like such a far cry from who she is and for a moment as she stands in his bathroom with his towel wrapped around her as she reaches for his t-shirt to wear, she feels vastly unimportant and out of her depth.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll have a look in a minute.” Her gut wrenches slightly as she thinks about it for a moment and she’s lost in thought silently as she turns away from him, looking at his reflection in the background as she carries on brushing her teeth. She’s part of his world and it’s a surreal pedestal to be on, she feels like she’s been promoted far beyond her rank. She doesn’t belong here. His home is smart, suave and expensive. Everything he owns is sleek or purposeful in its design, while her home is cluttered with things she’s picked up over the years that one way or another, she’s ended up keeping them just in case she ever needs them again. Growing up she had so little, that each purchase she makes now or every bill she pays, she still feels uneasiness as if sooner or later the rug will be yanked out from beneath her feet and she’ll be left in some horrid untenable scenario.

She’s become friends with her attending; she’s slept with him on more than one occasion and enjoyed it. But now more than all of that, she enjoys the time she gets to spend with him. She feels like by his side, she can shine her brightest and he only helps her to grow. He has taught her and for it she has matured and learned how to be a better doctor and a better human being, taking less of a hit against her own stability and wellbeing every time something tragic is pushed through those doors of the Emergency Room.

Claire feels a sinking in the pit of her belly, as the realisation that she often tries to push aside is pushed to the forefront of her mind again. For all the times they hang out together, work together or sleep together it still just isn’t quite enough. She wants to convey to him his meaning to her, but there aren’t any words that she can use. It’s enough to be in love with your boss, but it’s another kettle of fish to say _I love you_ to your boss.

She rinses her mouth, placing the toothbrush on the side. As she does so, he takes her by the hand. “None of them compare to you, I hope you know that.” He tells her, earnestly. Her hand shifts and her fingers wrap around his.

“I feel like I’m where I shouldn’t be. I can’t compare to any of the friends you’ve had before. This isn’t my world, this is yours.”

“I want you to be right here, I always want you to be here. You don’t have anyone to compare yourself to, Claire. Just being you is enough.” He tells her, placing his lips at her shoulder, peppering kisses along her collarbone, to the nape of her neck.

“I’m not sophisticated.”

“You are,” he interrupts her. Her breathing changes, her breaths are slower, harsher.

“I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, with whatever this is.”

“You’re stepping on no-one’s toes. I want you here.” He reassures, taking her hips in his hands, turning her to face him. Her flesh feels like it’s on fire when he takes her like this, when he stands so close to her. His lips press against hers, kissing over and over, moving along the line of her jaw, she throws her head back, allowing him more access to her neck. She tugs softly at the towel wrapped around her, unwinding it from herself to expose herself to him. His hands roam her body, he wants to take every inch of her in because she’s the most incredible and beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on and he doesn’t want to let go, for fear that she’ll just vanish before his eyes like a daydream.

Neil lifts her from the ground with a swift moving, his lips not leaving her neck and she moans freely as he lavishes her with kisses and attention, her hands wrapping around his neck, fingertips tangling in the mess of his head that’s still damp from his shower.

“Take your shirt off,” she asks and he obliges, but not before pressing a long, deep kiss against her lips. She grasps at anything around her, anything she can get leverage on and a brush clatters from the surface of the island and he doesn’t even noticed as he takes in every part of him. Her hands wrap around his back and her fingers dig into him, pulling him closer in as he showers her with attention.

“One moment,” he tells her as he fumbles with his pants and boxers, it’s like he can’t scoot out of them fast enough she he can return to her. She smells of frangipane and a sweet musky perfume that he can’t quite put his finger on, everything about her is a delight to him and he feels himself harden at the sight of her. “Are you alright?” He asks, pressing kisses against her breast, teasing her nipples with his hands, moving to wrap his mouth around them and she moans in reply. Her back is arched away now, pressing herself further into his embrace and she’s thankful for the hand he places at the small of her back, because she feels boneless.

“I’m… oh— Neil, I’m fine.” She offers, trying to string a sentence together but instead it just all comes out as completely garbled nonsense. She can feel that he’s smiling against her skin, he’s enjoying the way she writhes underneath him. His hand trails lower, making tiny circles from her knees to her thighs, massaging her and she feels that dull ache for more already. Her hand takes his, guiding it to her pussy because she’ll be damned if she’s waiting any longer for him to touch her where she needs it most. She holds his hand there in place, he presses his fingers firmly against her clit as she moves her body rhythmically against his hand, he lets her guide him.

His fingers work at the wetness of her entrance as she moans freely, her breaths short as sharp as he swears her moaning alone could get him off. Her hand roams his chest as she works herself up, getting herself off on his hand. His finger slides into her entrance and once she’s adjusted another joins it as he fucks her carefully at the pace she sets, the heel of his palm hitting her clit as his fingers roam inside her. “Neil—oh, god. Shit, Neil I’m gonna come.” She warns him.

“That’s fine honey, whenever you’re ready you can come. You look so beautiful right now.

“Neil… oh, god.” She keened, pressing herself against him as she came loudly, her thighs trembling, her grasp on him tightening even more so as he held her while she rode her way through it.

“Are you alright?” He asked, pressing kisses against her neck, along the line of her hair.

“Yes I’m good, that was incredible.” She spoke softly, breathless, her chest seemed to heave as she laughed slightly. “Really good, you could have a career in this, if surgery doesn’t pan out for you.” She teased him, he laughed, his voice rumbling against his skin. “I want…”

“What do you want, honey?” He asked, tentatively, still showering her with kisses.

“I want you to take me, like this. Right now, on the countertop.” She added, almost abashed at the words that seemed to come from her mouth.

“I can do that,” he replies carefully. “You’re not too tired?”

“No, no. I want you to. Please?”

He pressed her thighs apart, spreading her open for him, kissing her thighs before pressing his dick into her, she was hot and tight and her walls clamped around him as he lifted her to the edge of the countertop as she wrapped her legs around him.

He thrust into her carefully, with long, meaningful strokes, taking in the look on her face as she was building up to another orgasm.

“By the way,” she started, interrupted by a sharp gasp as he hit the sensitive spot inside her, her hand shifting to rub circles on her clit, his hand tenderly massaging her back. “That article you told me about… you’re right, the mechanical tricuspid valve replacement does sound good. Maybe not cost effective, but better for patient outcomes.”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” He laughed and she laughed in return, placing a careful kiss on his nose, then on his lips, at his jaw and ear.

“No, I was thinking about you actually.”

“Me?”

“We’re having sex right now, Neil. Did you expect me to be thinking about the Eiffel Tower? Oh—Oh god, Neil. Right there.” He thrust upwards, more deliberately, watching her expression shift, the way she furrows her brow, the small beads of sweat as he wore her out.

“You were just talking about a surgery and you’re a mystery to me.”

“I’m not that mysterious.” She retorts, hesitating for a moment as a moan wracks her. “I’m really close Neil.”

“You’re a beautiful mystery and I’d do anything to learn more about you. I want to know everything you’re willing to tell me about yourself.” She smiled, but then she’s digging her nails into his skin, her faces is contorted into pleasure as she pants and moans, he relishes in the way she tightens around him, the way her thighs around his waste quiver as he fucks her through it. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. I won’t let go.”

“Oh. Just there I… I think I really care about you… And I don’t know what else I should say.”

“I know you do. It’s alright.” He soothes as she comes down from her orgasm, just as he feels that tight coiling in the pit of his belly. “I’m coming Claire. Oh god, you drive me crazy and even when we’re not together, I think about you all the time. I wonder what you’re doing, what you’re thinking. I want to be here for you.” He rumbles against her skin, she feels the slight unevenness of his skin late at night, that slight scratch of stubble as he comes.

For a moment after, they stay just like that, he holds her in his arms, he inhales deeply and takes in that sweet musky frangipane, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, that pinkness to her lips.

“Are you alright?” He asks, sincerely, examining her face as she slowly disentangles himself from her, she laughs breathlessly.

“Yes, god, that was incredible. I don’t think I can walk.”

“Here, let me help.” He tells her, taking her in his arms as she presses herself against his skin. He carries her into his bedroom, placing her on the ironed linen that smells crisp and clean… it’s magnolia, she thinks she can smell. Or maybe it’s jasmine she can smell. As he lays her down, for a moment he resents that he has to let her go. He wants to keep her in his arms forever, wants to hold her close and to keep her away from the harsh realities of the world and he knows it’s selfish of him because he knows she can manage on her own, but what he’d do to run away with her and to never come back…

“My hair’s still wet, sorry.” She apologises as he lays her down.

“Don’t worry about that, as long as you’re comfortable and warm enough that’s enough for me.” He smiles earnestly; his eyes soften in a way she’s never seen before as her eyes meet his. She’s lost in his gaze and she feels something she can’t explain. Maybe what she feels is just a combination of tiredness and emotion, but when he places her down she takes his hand pulls him into the bed with her. She wraps herself up in the sheets, tangles herself in his arms and rests her head on his chest. His arms completely envelop her as he rubs her skin tenderly, his breathing soft.

He wants to tell her everything he thinks about her, but he knows how she’s felt about men before and if sex is what she needs to feel better and for her to be close to him, it’s what he’ll take. He can’t risk ruining whatever this is that they have right now, just because he wants her to know just what she means to him.

_He’s my boss_. Claire thinks, her head resting so she can hear the gentle thud of his heart. She’s getting attached to her boss in a way she can’t go back from and she’s tried this dating before, but each and every time it seems to go awry and someone will be hurt. For now, she cannot shoulder any more pain, cannot take those words if he does not feel the same, so instead she contents herself on what she has and loses herself in the moment.

“When I was a resident,” he begins, interrupting her thoughts. “I used to wear so much cologne, way too much cologne. I thought it made me cool, but it really didn’t. I mean it got me laid, but not always for the right reasons.” He was trying to bare his soul to her in response she smiles against his chest.

“I can’t imagine you ever embarrassing yourself. I’m pretty sure you were just born a fully-fledged surgeon.”

“It took me time, a long time really. But when you’re the wrong side of 40, you’ve had plenty of time to process and think.” She scoffs.

“Wrong side of 40? That’s ridiculous. You’re not even at your peak yet.”

“Are you saying I could do better?” He feigned hurt.

“No! No, no. I mean, well I just meant that…” she bit her lip, heat filling her cheeks and he laughed.

“I’m teasing you Claire.”

“I’m really glad I met you, Neil.”

  
“I’m glad I met you too. You’re not half bad for a subordinate.”

“And I guess you’re an alright attending… I—.” She was cut off by the sound of her mobile ringing. “Damn it, why does this keep happening?” She cursed, reluctantly pulling away from him with a sheet wrapped around herself, heading to the kitchen to find where she had left her phone. He followed her. 

“Claire, it’s me.” Morgan greeted brightly.

“Oh hey, hey. Uh, how are you?” Claire placed her finger over her lips, shushing Neil at a distance. Neil placed a finger over his lips, mockingly.

“I’m so great! I have the best news.”

“Oh, really? That’s amazing. What’s going on?” She asked as Neil gestured to her, mouthing ‘ _Who is it?’ ‘What’s up?’_

“My presentation on human factors in the surgical field has been accepted for official proposal. I’ve been invited to Dakota to officially present my findings at the American Surgeons Guild next month.”

“No way! That’s amazing!” _It’s Morgan._ She mouthed back at him.

“How’s that for not artistic? I can make a mean poster. Hey, I’d better get going. I’m going to celebrate. Do you fancy meeting for drinks?”

“Oh, uh, drinks. I can’t tonight, sorry—. I have to finish organising my case notes for M&M on Monday. You know how things can be.”

“Huh, yeah. No worries. We’ll meet soon, yeah?”

“Ohh, definitely. I can’t wait. Congrats again, you really deserve it. I’m so proud of you.”

  
“Thanks Claire. Night!”

“Goodnight. Take care, don’t get too drunk and don’t stay out too late. It’s a school night.” She hung up. “Morgan secured the research fund, she’s got to present her idea in Dakota next I think… Can we go back to bed?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda inspired by a doc I know. You could smell his aftershave the moment he was on the floor, even before you saw him. I've not seen him in forever tho. Next time for a road trip, mile high club and maybe some pie.


	4. Dakota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire opens up to Neil about her past, in doing so they share a first.

Claire pulled her panties back up as Neil readjusted his scrubs, running a hand through his hair. He loved the windswept way she looked straight after sex, the flush at her cheeks and chest, the way she would pull at her lip with her teeth, how effortlessly she could scrape her hair back after she’d thrown it loosely over her shoulders as he’d fucked her through pleasure. She was beautiful and he relished every moment he got to be by her, either across from her in the OR or when he could take her in his arms.

Her hair smelled like apples today, he’d only just noticed. Usually she smelled sweetly like lavender or frangipane but today she smelled like apples, perhaps she’d bought a new soap, maybe she was trying a new perfume. He often found himself wondering about the general day-to-day parts of her life, when he wasn’t around. He wondered what brands she bought at the grocery store, whether she was more of a day or night person. He wanted to know everything about her that she would allow him to know.

“What?” She chuckled softly, _she’d caught him_. He’d been watching her idly, just considering her life away from the OR. He hadn’t even noticed how mesmerised he had been by her for the moment as the dusky brightness of a new day lit up her skin with a glow.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing.” He quickly replied, taken aback briefly. “Well… it’s just. You’re the most beautiful woman, the most exceptional surgeon I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with.” He offered earnestly, her breath was trapped on her tongue and she silently cast her eyes over him, then to the window. She blinked, running through what to say in response. Her heart was beating wildly in her ears as her hand moved to play with her hair idly, fidgeting under his gaze.

“Do you maybe fancy getting some breakfast? I don’t know if you’re a breakfast kind of person. Some people don’t like breakfast, I do like breakfast, you know seeing as they say it’s the most important meal of the day but I totally respect if you… don’t like breakfast.” She berated herself immediately in her mind.

Heat rose to her face and her toes curled slightly on the spot. Why was she suddenly so unable to form a coherent sentence around him? She’d just slept with her boss in the on call room at the end of a night shift, only an hour after they’d finished suturing up on a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm, but all of a sudden she was lost for words because what if he took it as her asking him on a _date_ of all things? Not that she would refuse him if he asked her on a date, but this was a strictly _platonic_ kind of thing. He seemed to make that clear enough, the boundaries were set in stone and now she’d had the audacity to ask him if he liked breakfast and what’s more than that she’d _asked him out to breakfast_. Time was passing eternally slow with each passing moment feeling like an eternity.

“Sure, I’m ravenous. Do you have somewhere in mind?” His lips spread into a beaming smile. _Of course he wanted breakfast with her_. He could have had the worst day of his life, or just eaten at 4-course meal, it could be 3 in the morning and all she had to offer was a PBJ sandwich and he would still be delighted by the offer to spend time with her.

* * *

Claire didn’t live too far from the hospital, she’d chosen a place to make her home not long before the start of her residency, it had to be functional, easily accessible by bus route, preferably close to a grocery store that stayed open until late so she could pick up her essentials on the way home from work. Her apartment was small and pokey, but it was well lit by natural sunlight and she’d even grown to find comfort in the way the brick walls barely muted the sounds of the outside world bustling by. The place wasn’t by any means perfect, it was prone to leaky pipes and the rent was higher than anything she’d ever had to pay before, but it was relatively prime real-estate central city near to the hospital and it worked for her. It housed her safely, had been the destination for a handful of poorly chosen one-night flings and she felt now almost as if she’d grown up in this place. In a realer sense of her existence, while living here she’d truly grown as a doctor and a surgeon, learning to see the world and her patients with new eyes every single day, so perhaps she had grown up here.

Neil knew where she lived. The first time he’d even taken her home was at the end of a long 37 hour period on call where he’d caught her by the arm as she almost stumbled over her own feet at her tiredness. He’d seen how peaky she’d looked and the way her hair had been idly scraped into some kind of messy bun to keep it from her eyes, he’d heard how at around hour 30 of her on-call period she’d been faced with performing a solo clamshell thoracotomy on a kid who’d suffered a traumatic cardiac arrest after being hit by a car on the way to school. The kid had survived for her timely response, but she looked like she’d seen a ghost when he greeted her at the end of her shift.

She’d bundled herself into his car at his insistence, putting up little fight, although she’d looked in no fit state to put up any kind of argument and in even less of a fit state to make the journey home by bus. He’d felt some sort of guilt when he’d nudged her to wake her up once they’d arrived at her place. After that it had settled into some sort of norm of car sharing whenever they were together on shift, Neil had promised her that it was no kind of inconvenience to him and she had accepted his offer. He always neglected to mention that his own home was a couple of miles in the opposite direction from the hospital, but he enjoyed their journeys. He loved the way Claire would always have the radio on in the background as they’d drive, for the first few weeks he had watched how she would restrain herself from singing along to the songs, how she’d hum along occasionally or tap along to the beat, but after so long she would sing along in his car. He’d even pretended to take a wrong turning once, just to extend their travel. Neil would always harmonise with her, he’d be her backing singer and she would laugh until she’d cry sometimes. 

The pair had found a café-bistro not far from where Claire lived, it was on the corner of a street, near to a traffic island and she relished the noisiness outside of the world going on. It smelled of freshly roasted coffee and pastries, an excellent combination as he loved his coffee and Claire had an insatiable sweet tooth. She’d taken a seat at a table outside with a hanging basket just above the table while he’d headed inside to order. There was an icy chill to the early morning as the world woke when the pair would soon be going to bed, but after the shift it felt welcome, she had a tendency to feel cooped up inside the walls of the hospital at night, when the entire building would be lit by fluorescent bulbs that pushed her to the edge of migraines at times. While she waited, Neil intently considered the counter of pastries and cakes. Claire had offered little instruction on what she’d like to eat, just that she fancied ‘something sweet and a black coffee’, but he’d taken it to heart and evaluated each item on display carefully.

What about the frangipane tart? She did like the smell of frangipane soap. But what if she only used the soap as a replacement in her life because she was allergic to nuts? No, no. He’d seen her eat cashews on a break before now. But maybe a tart wasn’t quite what she’d be in the mood for.

What about a croissant? Although croissant wasn’t particularly sweet, he could order a selection of jams to go with it but then what preserves would she even like?

In fact, she’d never even particularly eluded to wanting pastries. What if she actually wanted a slice of carrot cake? Red velvet cake? Cheesecake? There were far too many types of cake on display. What if she wanted a brownie instead? What if she actually didn’t like chocolate? What if—

“Hi there, can I take your order?” His spiralling was interrupted by the barista with a broad smile.

“Hi, two black coffees, a slice of lemon cake and…” he hesitated. “I don’t know what to get her. Do you have a recommendation?”

“The pistachio and chocolate tart is really good, it has a zesty layer of lime jelly lining the bottom. The perfect combination of sweet and bitter.” She offered and he nodded sincerely in response.

“That sounds good. I’ll take that.” He handed her the note as she placed the coffees on a tray. “Keep the change, thanks for your help. Have a good day.”

“This looks so good.” Claire remarked as he set the tray down in front of them. He could see her bleary-eyed expression and the way her eyes had puffed with tiredness in a way that just seemed to make her eyes sparkle even more. Neil felt himself release a deep breath of relief.

“The barista recommended the pie thing. I thought you’d like it, if you don’t we could swap, or I can get you something else?” He offered, suddenly cursing himself for assuming that she’d just enjoy the tart.

“No, no. Your cake looks so good, but this looks great too. Thank you.” She replied, picking up her fork to dig in. He’d nodded in reply, taking a long sip of his coffee and starting his lemon cake. Before he’d met Claire, he never would’ve thought to order anything with a coffee, but it’d become a new routine and soon enough he’d found himself even recommending cafés and patisseries based on the quality of the cake and coffee available.

“This is so good, you picked well.” She beamed, talking with her mouth full. He smiled, he loved seeing her so comfortable and relaxed. “Do you want to try a bite?” She held her fork out to him, a slice of the tart on it. He took the fork from her, accepting gladly.

“Wow, this is one good pie.” He nodded.

“Do you mind if I try some of yours?” She asked innocently, almost forgetting herself. He pushed the plate slightly towards her, cutting off a chunk of his cake for her to try. He held the fork out for her and she leaned forwards, across the table, taking it in her mouth, satisfied she leaned back in her seat. “This is so good.” She commended, washing it down with a long slurp of her coffee.

“I think they do some kind of dinner menu too, maybe we could come here some time.” _Oh god, he’d inadvertently asked her on a date. Had she noticed?_

“Mm, yes. If the cake is anything to go by, I bet the food is amazing!” She didn’t hesitate at all, agreeing with his proposal.

It hadn’t taken long for Neil to notice that Claire was a people-watcher. She could often drift off into her own mind watching anonymous people going about their days, wondering about their lives and who they were. He’d even started to narrate their days with cheesy stories.

“I bet that man is actually the long lost sister of the lady with the pink hair over there, they were separated at birth and grew up in different states and even though they don’t know it, they’re living in the same apartment building.” He explained and she chuckled, her smile dazzling as ever, encouraging him to go on. “And the little kid over there? 27 years from now, she’s going to be the first female president.”

“Dang, 27 years?” She laughed.

“You’re right. She’ll be the fourth female president.” He corrected himself and she snorted with laughter, covering her mouth to hide herself from him before she embarrassed herself more.

“Morgan mentioned she’d invited you to join her at the conference for her research presentation, I heard they’re going to award her a grant to get her work off the ground, it’d be pretty amazing if they did.”

“Yeah, she did. She’s got what looks like the makings of a pretty impressive career in medical research. She could make one hell of a name for herself with it, if she wanted to. She’s got the talent and capability for it.”

“I’m really happy for her, if this is what she wants then I really hope in whatever way, it all works out for her. She’s a really good doctor, you know? She can be cutthroat when she needs to be, but inside she’s got a really good heart. If I could be half the doctor she is, I’d be pretty proud of myself.” She remarks, deep in thought as she watches a couple wandering idly down the street, hand in hand. She sighs deeply; she feels a kind of yearning ache for a moment like that of her own.

She’s lost in her mind for a time, she imagines that instead of the couple it’s herself and Neil and they’re together. He takes her hand as they walk down the street together, no secrecy as they proudly display their relationship for others to see. She’s not used to attention by any means, but she imagines they’re at some kind of gala or event at the hospital and he holds her hands as they make their way down the stairs together, showing her off to his colleagues and peers, he’ll whisper in her ear that she’s beautiful, his breath will tickle her neck. He’ll crack a joke that only she understands and she’ll laugh. _“This is my girlfriend –.”_

“Claire? Earth to Claire.” He startles her out of her daydream, she looks around, orientating herself.

“Yes? Sorry. I think I’m just a little tired, y’ know. All these long nights at the hospitals seems to be taking its toll on me.” She muses, trying to distract him.

“Do you want me to take you home? I don’t mind.” He offers, his voice laced with concern. He tilts his head, observing her expression with slight worry.

“Oh no, I’m alright. I haven’t even finished my coffee.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. Besides, I wanted to ask if you wanted to join me travelling to the conference? I know Doctor Reznick is travelling ahead early to prepare her presentation and I just thought, you know, it’s safer to travel together.”

_Safer?_ She thinks. He’s worried about her and it makes her heart skip a beat, she swallows thickly. “I’m perfectly capable, Neil.”

“I know you are, but you know how airports can be.”

“I’m uh, not the biggest fan of flying.”

“But you’ve travelled by helicopter before, like that time you were part of the organ retrieval team, with Shaun.”

“I just—it’s really hard to say and when I do say it you’re going to think it’s so dumb. But to me, it’s not dumb. It really matters and it’s not easy for me to just…” Claire trails off. “You know what, forget about it. It’s not important. Sure, do you have any travel plans yet or do you want me to look into it?”

He looks at her sincerely, arching his eyebrow slightly as he tries to read her. “Look Claire, whatever it is, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m sorry if I just presumed, we can just take a road trip instead, or you don’t have to go if you don’t want.” He watches the way she slumps slightly in her seat, wrinkling her nose a little as she finds herself lost in thought again, her fingers tap on the table as she works through some sort of memory or feeling. His hand rests on top of hers, wrapping his fingers around hers carefully as he leans in towards her. He says nothing, just waiting while she processes whatever this is. She smiles at him, he sees how thinly veiled her sadness is.

“When I was a kid, my mom dropped me off at the airport arrivals in my biggest coat with a suitcase and $10, she said my dad was going to pick me up. She waved goodbye and I really didn’t know what was happening, I didn’t really understand that she was saying goodbye properly. I was just far too damn young, you know? I waited and waited. I wasn’t even really sure who or what I was looking for or waiting, but I was so excited because I’d never met my dad before and here I was, thinking that he was travelling all this way just to meet me. I felt like a princess. I felt important for the first time in my life. I waited for hours and hours until I fell asleep on a bench, waiting for someone I’d never met before.” She inhaled sharply, taking a shaky breath and another long slurp of coffee. Neil watched her intently, but didn’t interrupt.

“After so long, security came to pick me up as they would. It broke my heart when they carried me away; I thought they were trying to stop me from meeting my dad. I thought they were taking away from the chance to meet the one person in the world who might care about me, because my mom, my ‘aunties’ or my mom’s boyfriends really didn’t. I was just getting in the way of her drinking problem. I was put into a foster placement… I spent 15 months being bounced from family to family across the state. Something would happen and then I’d get moved again. It’s some kind of particularly messed up feeling to feel even less permanent than someone’s dog or a pot plant.”

“Claire, I’m so sorry.”

“I never met my dad, just in case you were wondering. I don’t think my mom even knew who he was. Probably just some other junkie she hooked up with for a night for a fix or some cash to pay a bill.” She scoffed at her own memory, it was jarring and she felt a pain in her chest like someone was jabbing her ribs with a pointy finger. She _ached_ as she considered her childhood. “My mom came back, she always did. She was consistent in that way at least, but things just kept getting worse and I’d be moved between foster placements until my mom got out of rehab or the psych unit, then back to foster care when she spiralled again. I felt like I had to take the world on my shoulders when I was 13, just to keep my mom in my life. I did whatever I had to do, just to have a family. When she was manic, I would lock the doors so she wouldn’t go out and hurt herself. When she was low, I’d help her to shower because she couldn’t even do that for herself, I’d brush her hair every day. When most little girls are getting their hair braided by their moms, I was doing everything I could to stop my mom abandoning me again. Because even despite how shitty my life was with her, I just wanted to belong to someone.”

“Claire you are so much more important than what you realise, you belong don’t belong to anyone but yourself, but you matter to so many, you’ve touched so many lives and I enjoy every day we get to spend together. You don’t belong to me, but you are important to me, you matter to me.”

“Thank you for being my friend.” She said quietly.

“Don’t sweat it, I’m always here for you. I love… being your friend.” He told her softly, squeezing her hand.

“Alright, so Dakota it is.” She affirmed, squeezing his hand back.

* * *

“Cabin crew, prepare for take off.” The plane’s captain announced as Claire fiddled with the belt, tightening it on her lap and slumping herself slightly in the chair as the members of the cabin crew filtered through the aisles, head-counting and preparing the travellers for flight.

“You know there are some excellent strategies effectively implementing the checks in place in the airline industry to a hospital setting to ensure patient safety.” Neil remarked, flicking through an in-flight magazine.

“Are you being serious?” Claire inhaled sharply, then exhaling deeply. The thought of flying had left her peaky for a handful of days in the run up to travelling. The preparation had been intense and overwhelming and Claire felt herself start to lag already and it was only 10 in the morning. Her hand wrapped around the armrests bilaterally as she tried to anchor herself in place. “This is fine, everything is fine.”

“Hey, look at me?” He asks her, waiting for her to tilt her head towards him. “You’re going to be okay. Just a short flight, then all of this is behind you.” He soothed her, taking his hand on top of hers and giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“Grey’s Anatomy taught me a lot of bad things about medics sharing flights together.” She exhaled deeply again, fidgeting in her seat. Neil held onto her hand, his free hand making sure his own seatbelt was secured.

“The textbook?” He asked, perplexed.

“The TV series.” She corrected.

“Claire, you’re fine.” He reassured her again. She tried to pay attention to the safety briefing, but time and time again her mind would drift elsewhere until Neil pulled her out of her spiralling with a gentle squeeze of the hand. He watched as she would hold her breath, nostrils flaring and eyes shutting with a pang of guilt that aside from holding her hand and providing words of encouragement, there was little else he could do for her.

“Once we’ve taken off, I’ll be fine.” She explained.

“I know you will, but you’re doing fine.” He soothed. “Doctor Reznick is lucky to have a friend like you, willing to pay such a personal expense to travel for her presentation.

“She’d do the same for me, I think.” Claire replied earnestly. “Okay, this is just like performing a lap-appy. You do it the first time, then you just have to do it another dozen times before it starts to feel alright.”

Neil chuckled lightly, offering her a reassuring smile. “Sort of, I mean – you can’t really order food or buy perfume during a surgery, but I suppose the principals are all there.” She let go of his hand, taking a moment to remember who she was and find herself, she grasped the in-flight magazine, skimming through it.

_‘Good morning ladies and gentlemen, we have a pretty decent tailwind so we should be making it to Dakota around 20 minutes earlier than scheduled, if we aren’t met with any bumps on the way. Stay comfortable, sit back and relax. Enjoy your on-board experience.’_

“Do people really buy pens, cosmetics and cigars during flights?”

“Sometimes they do, yes. Depends on the circumstance and whether or not you’re on your way home to a spouse whose birthday you forgot or you’re looking for a gift for mistress number two.” She smiled carefully as cabin crew began to make their rounds with trolleys of drinks, spirits and food. “Do you want something to eat? You didn’t have any breakfast.” He remarked and she flushed lightly. He’d been paying attention to her?

“Oh, no. No thank you. I ate before I left this morning, I had some granola to finish so I had a snack before you picked me up.”

“Can I get two black coffees please? No sugar… Here, careful. It’s warm.” He handed her the paper cup of instant coffee and she accepted it gratefully, taking a short sip to allow her a moment of reprieve from his questioning gaze. No matter how hard she tried to pull her head together, she just couldn’t settle the uneasy queasiness in the pit of her belly.

“Thanks, that’s really kind of you.” She remarked. “So you were saying about airline safety measures in healthcare settings.” She digressed, nursing the cup between her hands.

“Well I mean take, for example, the time out checklist prior to placing blade to skin, that’s a prime example. Taking a moment pre-operatively to confirm the patient identity, the plan, the contingencies and the team. It’s a pretty short step, but at least numbers of never-events where the wrong limb is amputated or the wrong treatment is given. When they first implemented the strategy, I was dubious to say the least but as always Audr… Doctor Lim swayed me. It made me a better surgeon for it.” 

“You two are pretty close, aren’t you?”

“She’s an extraordinary doctor, I’ve known her since the beginning of my residency. For every mountain I climbed, I’d gloat and celebrate only to realise she’d silently accomplished it already and moved onto the next thing.

“She sounds like one hell of a woman.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” He agreed, looking over her shoulder at the magazine, trying to distract from the subject of Lim, in his eyes it was still an open wound. “Look, perfume. You can never really go wrong with buying perfume.”

“It’s not something I’ve really thought about much, if I’m honest. Some people know what perfume suits them and compliments their pheromones or enhances their personality but I tend to be a little bland. I always choose the same perfume every time. I don’t know if anyone would even really notice it.”

Neil considered her thought for a moment; he always noticed the way she smelled. When he walked by a bakery he would be taken aback for a moment by the sweetness it radiated and how it reminded him of her, or how she smelled of the same clean almond-y fragranced soap. To him she radiated warmth, comfort and security. But he’d be damned if he’d ruin what they had going right now by telling her. “I think you’d be surprised.”

* * *

“Massive congratulations again, Morgan.” Claire greeted Morgan as she stood from the table at the bar, taking her purse under her arm, draining her champagne glass. She leaned in, practically having to shout in her ear to be heard over the music. “I finished my on call this morning and it’s be a long journey here and I’m pretty worn out. I’m going to turn in, if you don’t mind? If you’re up for it maybe we could meet up for breakfast or brunch, if you’d prefer?”

“Mm, brunch sounds like such a great idea. We can go to the salon and get manicures, so we’re ready for the awards gala on Friday night. If you don’t mind, we could run through my presentation one last time.” Morgan asked.

Claire learned in for a quick hug, kissing Morgan on the cheek. “Sure thing, of course I don’t mind. Brunch, manicures and champagne over manuscripts is exactly my kind of day. Stay safe alright? That guy over by the bar has been checking you out all night. Call me if you need me, for anything at all.” She stated, pulling away from the embrace.

“You look tired, Claire.” Morgan remarked, placing a hand on her cheek. “Go and get some rest. I’ll see you at 12pm alright?”

“Gotcha. Goodnight, take care.” She greeted, turning away from her and making her way out. She made half the journey to her hotel room, but deviated on the last left, going right and finding the staircase. Claire felt a chill rush through her as she made her way up the stairs from the 4th to the 7th floor, where Neil was staying. Every corner was checked, checked twice and checked again before she made her way, the thrill of being caught by a colleague on her way only seeming to spur her on further, even despite for what it was worth she could guarantee that they wouldn’t be the only pair spending the night away from their allotted hotel rooms.

_Room 712_. She rapped her fingers against the doorframe quickly, awkwardly swinging on the spot as she waited for him to answer the door. She felt certain that every footstep in her heeled shoes would’ve given her away, or maybe she’d been slowed down by the way her dress restricted her as the dark mauve material clung to her body as she lifted it slightly for her feet to make haste without tumbling.

_I’m here._ She typed a short, quick message and pressed send as her eyes scanned the corridor routinely for anyone that might be about to see her. Claire couldn’t truthfully rationalise why she was so anxious that someone might see her make her way into the hotel room of her boss, only that some ludicrous sensational story could be misconstrued from her meeting with her superior for a purely profession meeting at midnight.

As the door swung open, he prepared to greet her with a but was stopped in his tracks as she pushed him back into his room, closing the door sharply behind them.

“Claire—,” he mumbled and she pressed her mouth against his, her hands roaming his chest and working away the bowtie at his neck, nimble fingers deftly unbuttoning each button of his dress shirt as she exposed his chest to her, peppering kisses along his jaw, to his collarbone, to his chest. She sank down to her knees, her dress folding beneath her knees. She placed her head in his hand as he offered it to her.

“I want you to make love to me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this update took so long to write. It's been a really long week and I've just been so tired, then when I've got home from work my hands have just been so sore from all the hand washing at work, I've not even really felt able to write. Frustratingly I've already written half of chapter 8, just because that chapter seemed to be calling my name instead, it took a while to pull myself back into chronological order. Anyway, thanks for reading! Stay safe, take care and thanks for the lovely comments <3


	5. Gelato for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil and Claire finally go on a date together, but Claire has something at the back of her mind.

Claire was slow to rise that morning; Neil had slipped out of the bed slowly trying to not disturb her in the process. He’d drawn the curtains slightly to see the first light of daybreak filter into the room; it cast a glow over Claire that made her seem even more ethereal than usual. He’d quietly wrapped himself in a dressing gown and made his way to the bathroom to wash and shave. Ordinarily he was a creature of strict routine, but this morning he was in no particular hurry. A short amount of time had passed while he’d gathered together his affairs, perching himself back on the bed by her side, laptop to hand as he filtered through emails – none of which, with Claire by his side, seemed particularly important now.

“Morning,” Claire stretched out by his side, exhaling with a broad yawn.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” 

“Mm, slept like a dream.” She had the faintest smile at the edges of her lips and had a relaxed and contented aura about herself. He leaned over to the bedside table, taking a cup of coffee and passing it to her. She readjusted herself in the bed, pulling the sheets over herself as she propped herself against the headboard, engulfed in pillows. She seemed to glow today, he noted.

“Thanks for this.” He smiled as he watched her, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes, starting to take in the day. “What?” She asked, noticing how he observed her quietly.

“Nothing, just… Just that you look beautiful today.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth, showered or washed my hair yet, I think you’re just flattering me. But it’s working, do go on.” She teased him. He placed his laptop aside, propping it on the floor as he leaned over to cup her cheek with his hand. She looked into his eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

  
“What? No, of course not.” He chuckled. She lifted herself up with the palms of her hands, adjusting herself to straddle his lap, placing her hands on his shoulders, his hand still fixed at her cheek. He took a moment, just drinking the sight of her in. Here she was, sat in his lap first thing in the morning, he was the first person to see her today and what a glorious sight it was to see her so rested and relaxed. He leaned in to capture her lips with his, taking her in for a kiss. It was long, slow and tender, he pressed a kiss against her nose as she pulled away.

“Sorry, I’ve not brushed my teeth yet.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” He remarked, taking her lips again, kissing her deeply, kisses pressed along her cheek, to her jaw and her neck. Here she was, in his bed as he got to see her in her most domestic, vulnerable state as she woke from a good night’s sleep. She moved onto her side, resting her head on his chest, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in. His head rested on the crown of her head, he took in the scent of her hair, kisses peppered along her hairline as she exhaled deeply. He held her tightly in his arms, as if should he let go, she would slip from his grasp.

“Claire, there’s something I want to say.” He began, mumbling the words into her hair; she felt the gentle vibrations against her skin. Her finger stroked lazy circles on the stubble of his jawline and for a moment she pretended she was the only woman to have ever seen him this way.

“Hmm?” She asked eventually, looking up at him.

“I wanted to ask whether,” he hesitated. He was the most cool, calm and collected surgeon in his OR, yet around her with the words on his mind, he couldn’t form a sentence. “Perhaps I’ve misunderstood, or misinterpreted. Maybe you aren’t ready for what I feel is there, or I’m getting ahead of myself and taking the next step in something that isn’t anything… but, when I’m around you Claire – I feel completed and whole. When I’m away from you I long to see you again, I want to be with you. I don’t – I don’t know how it happened, but you’ve become my Sun. My life revolves around you, every time we’re apart I think about when I’ll see you next and when we’re together I don’t want you to leave.” He furrowed his brow, she watched him carefully, still in his arms as she wordlessly listened to what he had to say intently. “When I’m with you, I feel like the most contented man alive, I feel completed and I know that you make me a better version of myself. If you tell my now that I have misunderstood, or that you don’t feel the same way I swear I will leave you be and never pursue you ever again, our relationship will be strictly professional. I’ll write a letter of recommendation for any residency in the country, if that’s what you want… I just, I need you to know.”

“Tonight, do you want to go for dinner?” She began, her fingertips tracing circles on the flesh at the opening of his dressing gown. “Go for dinner with me, I mean.” She added, not entirely sure he’d understood what she was trying to imply. He lay there for a moment, in some sort of stunned silence, just holding her in his arms.

“Dinner, you mean… Together?” He asked, trying to clarify. His mind reeled as ran through her words and they seemed to echo in his head. Had he misunderstood? She lay in his arms, she was so warm, gentle and soft and he feared ever letter her go because he could’ve sworn his heart would’ve split in two if he did.

“Together. Dinner. I, uh,” she started. Why was she suddenly having so much trouble pulling her words together around him? Why had she forgotten every word she’d ever learned. “Dinner, with me?”

“Dinner with you?”

“Like a date.”

“ _Like_ a date?” He asked.

“Why are you repeating everything I say?” She chuckled, pressing her head into his chest.

“Dinner with you. A date, dinner with you.” He affirmed, almost disbelievingly.

“A date: dinner with me.”

“I’d love that.” He responded, pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“Do we have to get up yet?” She asked.

“We can stay here all day, if that’s what you want.” She smiled, repositioning slightly so she could rest her head in the crook of his neck, he wrapped the blankets around themselves, holding her in his arms. “Claire if you asked it of me, I’d never leave this bed. I will never leave you, I would only walk away if you asked me to.” He told her, she blushed. They were words she wasn’t used to, she had grown so accustomed to having to fend for herself and survive for everyone else around her, having to pledge her life to the care of her mom, one way or another.

“Dinner sounds good. I’d like that.” She finally concluded, he could see the way the cogs turned in her mind, the way her breathing had sharpened as she was deep in thought, he felt the way she tensed as she ran through a dozen ultimatums in her mind. Of all people, what did she have to offer him?

She exhaled contentedly. “Dinner it is.”

* * *

“Hey there, sorry I’m late.” Claire greeted, swinging her purse down and pulling up a seat. Morgan had already planted herself at a table and settled in and was tapping away at her laptop. Claire leaned in for a quick hug. “You’re working?”

“Oh hey,” Morgan remarked, giving Claire a quick squeeze back as she planted herself parallel. “Ugh, yeah. Even in another state, HR is still bugging me about some sort of mandatory study day that has expired. Conflict resolution, I think.” She frowned, furrowing her eyebrows lightly.

“Seriously? You’re presenting some research at a major out-of-state conference and all HR wants to discuss is that your conflict resolution training has expired?” Claire asked, arching an eyebrow as she waved to the waiter. “Hey, can I get a couple of mimosas please?”

“Drinking already?” Morgan arched a brow, shrugging. “Yeah, something about it being some type of core competency and I shouldn’t enter the OR again until resolved.”

“Don’t they realise that most people in the OR are pretty heavily sedated, if not rendered entirely unconscious?”

“Well, you’d think they’d have guessed that. But I guess not.” Morgan shrugged, flipping the lid of her laptop and discarding it in the purse by her feet. “How are you? You look pretty tired.”

“Wow, thanks.” Claire commented quickly. “I’ve just got here.”

“You look like you’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately. How are you?”

“Same old resident-stuff, you know?” Claire remarked, casting a glance over the menu. “Is it very adult-like to confess that all I want right now are pancakes?”

“I’ve been lead to believe that peak adulthood is just going out for breakfast, just for the sake of pancakes. No parental guardian to get in the way of cake for breakfast, pudding for lunch.” Morgan shrugged, a broad smile as the waiter placed two glasses on the table. Morgan raised the mimosa and Claire took a glass.

“A toast, to you. I know I’ve already said it –”

“At least twice.” Morgan remarked, a cheeky grin as she raised her glass.

“Here’s to you and the research grant.” Claire raised her glass, then taking in a long slurp. “So, I don’t know about you but I’m definitely getting pancakes, thanks.” She offered the menu back to the waiter.

“I’ve ordered the gluten-free avocado toast.”

“That sounds pretty good too.” She remarked. “Can I get some French toast on the side, actually? Thanks.” Claire added. “So, what have you been working on lately?”

“Well,” Morgan began, laying into her drink. “When I haven’t been in the OR, I’ve been working on this report for the M&M as the independent incident reviewer.”

“That’s a pretty big deal, congratulations.” Claire spoke, sincerely. “You’re nailing this whole residency thing. Park must be in the rear-view mirror by now, right?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, well and truly. I think I maybe even have a chance as chief resident when we get back to California.”

“Seriously? That’s amazing.” Claire congratulated.

“Mm, thanks.” She offered a brief toast with her mimosa, draining the glass swiftly. “What about you?”

“Oh, well. You know. The usual stuff.” Claire offered, averting her gaze. “I’ve felt pretty run down lately, you know?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to feel well rested as a resident.” Morgan replied. “Maybe when you’re an attending you can catch a break, but until then…” She trailed off.

“I’ve got to bust a gut.”

  
“Pretty much.” Morgan replied as the waiter placed the food in front of them. “Can I get another two mimosas?”

“Thanks,” Claire remarked quietly. She hadn’t realised just how hungry she had been until the food had been placed in front of her. “This looks so good, good choice on this place. Have you been here before?” She asked.

“Actually, it was somewhere that Doctor Melendez recommended. I guess he grew up or trained somewhere near here. Said it was some kind of definite place to visit.”

“Oh.” Claire began. “Well, good choice Doctor Melendez.” She placed a forkful in her mouth to distract from the subject.

“Yeah, he’s a pretty friendly person when you get to know him.” Morgan shrugged. “It’s just been a pretty tough time, trying to rush to get this presentation done and the usual stresses of residency. I’ll be so glad when it’s all over and done with. It sure seems to be a lot of effort for the sake of a few marks on some fellowship application.” She sighed a breathy exhale.

  
Claire tilted her head. “You’ll get through this, you know?” She remarked. “I know it all seems pretty darn impossible right now, but there’s an end to all things. You’re one of the most talented doctors out there, they’d be a fool to reject you.”

“I just have a lot of worries.” Morgan sounded, clearly deep in thought. “You know how it can be, how families can be.” She hesitated, not quite fully realising what she’d said until it was too late. “— oh, that’s not what I meant. I just mean that… well, I meant…” She tried to defend.

“Its alright, I know what you mean.” Claire replied, quietly. Her fork was playing with the food on her plate a little now. “You don’t have to worry about offending me, if that’s what’s caught your tongue. I’m here to listen, don’t worry about me.” She explained.

“It’s just that growing up, I was the unimpressive kid. I was the one who couldn’t sing or dance, I wasn’t some sort of artistic prodigy. This is finally my chance at being good at something and I just… Claire, I can’t fail. This is all I have.”

“I know it is.” Claire soothed softly. “But a day from now you’ll wonder what all this was about, it’ll all be in your past and you’ll be some sort of award winning researcher in California and it’ll all be worth it. If you can wait just a little longer… you’re almost there.” She reassured, placing her fork down as she grew tired of playing with her food. Morgan placed her hand on top of Claire’s.

“You’re too good to me, you know.”

“I’m really not.” Claire remarked feeling an overwhelming pang of guilt at her belly. A sickness was building in her as she felt some sort of uneasiness. While Morgan bared her soul to her, Claire continued to maintain her distance and continued to carry her secrets alone. “This is the least you deserve and are owed.” She replied eventually with a shrug. She exhaled as Morgan seemed to take some sort of comfort in her words.

“Thanks Claire. You really are the best kind of friend anyone could hope for.”

“You know don’t give yourself enough credit.” Claire mused aloud. She felt an awful chill at the nape of her neck; her hands began to play with the napkin on her lap. It felt like the world was growing more and more distant. “You worry too much about what other people think.” She affirmed.

“I just want to be a good doctor, Claire. The best doctor out there.”

“I know you do. But do you really think the guys pay this much attention to every move they make?” She asked. “Do you really think the ones who gets 10 points less on their final exams have to think as much as you do? Because, I promise you they really won’t think about it as much as you do.” She explained. “There are some people who have to try really, really hard to be a brilliant doctor,” she began. “Then there are some who really don’t have to even try.”

Morgan frowned, dabbing a layer of avocado grease from her lips. “It’s just the way medicine is.” She sighed, taking another bite from her toast. “Us women have to stick together!” She decided, a sense of empowerment. She pulled her mobile from her pocket. Claire rubbed at her temples slightly, some sort of headache that rested just behind her eyes forcing its way into her awareness.

“Late nights again? You need to focus on something other than residency. You look exhausted. Why don’t you try knitting or cross stitch or something?” She suggested, harmlessly, barely looking up from her mobile. Morgan rifled through her purse. “Darn, I think I used my last Tylenol for this hangover. Sorry.”

“Mm, no. Don’t worry about it. Just a headache, I’m sure, I’ll grab something at the drug store later.”

“I got an email from my mom yesterday.” Morgan began.

“Yeah? Did you tell her about your research or presentation?” Claire tilted her head, taking a careful sip of water. She abandoned the fork, realising she just wasn’t in the mood for breakfast.

“Yeah, my brother is up for some kind of award, my sister is playing a concert in London, at the Opera House.”

“And you… you’re presenting major research developments in Dakota.”

“Hm, yeah.” Morgan sighed. “She just wasn’t all that impressed. It’s kinda sucks, but it’s nothing I wasn’t expecting.”

“But she should be so proud, I know I am.” She reassured. “I think maybe your mom just doesn’t really understand the world you’re living in and what all these things mean, but I bet in some way she’s proud of you and proud of all the things you’re achieving. Even if she doesn’t really understand the magnitude of what’s happening in your life.”

“Thanks Claire.” She smiled warmly. “I’ll pay for this, there’s a drug store just on the corner. Do you want to go ahead and I’ll meet you in a minute?”

“Oh no, you’re fine. I couldn’t—”

“I insist. Go, I’ll be five minutes.”

“Thank you. Five minutes, tops.” She got to her feet promptly, tucking in the chair and waving a quick ‘thank you’ as she made her way from the café. The drug store on the corner was just a handful of metres from the café as she made her way there quickly.

The drug store was a small, independently owned building and the owner greeted her the moment she entered the building, Claire quickly scoured through the shelves, looking for what she needed before Morgan came along. She grabbed a bottle of water and box of Tylenol as she continued to scan the rest of the shelves.

Her feet brought her to a halt in front of a selection of pregnancy tests and she realised that there were so many things to choose from: Early detection, high sensitivity, ease of use, the cheapest or multi-buy. She grabbed the one in front of her; this one would have to do. She felt a kind of hesitation placing it on the counter as the owner rung up the price with some small talk to distract her. She realised now in buying the test she’s committed to the idea that she might be pregnant, until now it’d just been a cluster of symptoms and a vague idea at the back of her mind. All the nausea, the headaches, the light-headedness, the late period, she’d chalked it all up to the stresses of residency and reassured herself with that. But no birth control could be 100% effective, she knew that and the nagging doubt just had to be satisfied. 

“Thanks,” she replied, taking the Tylenol with a sip of water and stuffing the test deep into her purse. “Take care, bye.”

* * *

Neil had chosen a quiet little spot at the restaurant; he’d diligently called ahead to reserve a table and even though he’d sent Claire a text saying to be there for around 8pm, he’d found that his usually calm reserve had been infiltrated by the threat of nerves and had found himself there almost half an hour earlier. He fiddled with his shirt buttons idly, trying to decide if one button down was too formal, or if two buttons down was too much on show, or maybe even three buttons down was the casual medium he should be going for. He caught his reflection in a mirror hanging from the wall, fixing and unfixing his buttons. Too casual, far too casual, too formal—

“Hi,” Claire interrupted his thought, his hand quickly dropped from his collar. “Is this seat taken?” She joked, although the words didn’t quite come out as casually as she’d expect as it dawned on her that she was feeling _nervous_. There was a long moment of silence, it took a moment for Neil to realise the quiet but she had taken his breath away and left him speechless. He shook his head quickly.

“Yeah, the waiter and I were having a lovely little candlelit dinner for two,” he replied, finding his feet quickly. He pulled her chair out, embracing her for a quick hug as he placed a kiss on her cheek. “You look…” He searched for the words, but nothing seemed to come out. “Stunning. You look stunning.” He finally said as she took her sit, he shuffled her in.

“Oh, thank you.” She replied, playing with her hair, putting a stray strand behind her ear. “I, uh, didn’t know what to wear. I hadn’t really packed for _this_ , so I just… yeah, this is what I chose.” She explained, a nervous chuckle.

“You look incredible.” He remarked again, sitting opposite from her. She dipped her head, all of a sudden feeling bashful in his presence.

“You look great, amazing.” She replied, the words stumbling over themselves. “You look just like you do at work… great.” She explained, suddenly realising she’d just complimented his work-wear to boot. He always was stylish, suave and charismatic— she caught herself as her mind began to wander. “This is a nice place... I’m sorry; I’m a bag of nerves. It’s not like we’ve not hung out before, but this time feels different.”

He let go of a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Me too. Do you fancy a walk and coffee instead?”

“That sounds like an amazing idea, I love coffee.” She replied, he placed money under the cutlery and took her hand, waving the waiter goodbye.

“Have you ever been to Dakota before?” He asked as she took his arm, walking down the street at his side. He slowed his step down deliberately, noticing that she’d chosen to wear some thinly heeled court shoes.

“I’ve not really travelled before in general.” She owned up. “I never really had the money when I was growing up, never managed the field trips and all that kind of stuff. Not that it really mattered, I guess when you don’t know what something is like, it doesn’t really bother you when you’re missing out on it.”

“And now?” He asked. “Do you wish you’d done those things?” He moved his head slightly, watching her as she considered his question. He realised he could just listen to her speak, tell him about her life for an eternity and it would satisfy him.

“I don’t think so now, no. At first I did, I blamed by mom for all the normal things I didn’t get to do because I was a kid working multiple jobs for us to stay afloat, for her to have her meds. But after a while, I think you just have to let go of some things, especially the ones you can’t change. They only hurt you.”

“That’s a pretty sensible way to look at things.” He remarked.

“Well, I learned from the best.” She gave his arm a slight squeeze, looking up at him. “Besides, if I’d done all those things then I wouldn’t be out for a walk in a state I’d never visited before with you. Maybe all these things have a way of coming back to us, just not always when we expect them to. Oh, hey look. Gelato, let’s go.”

He allowed himself to be tugged by her to a shop window. The place sold confectionary, candies and chocolates and he saw the way her eyes lit up. “I’ll have the raspberry gelato please.”

“Can I get a pot of mint choc chip please? Thanks. Contactless.” She decided, as he searched through his pocket for his wallet she tapped her mobile against the chip and pin. “Thanks again.”

“I can pay.” He commented, putting his wallet back.

“You always pay, besides soon enough someone is going to think you’re some sort of a sugar daddy. I’m just setting the record straight.”

“Wow, _sugar daddy_?” He chuckled as she took the gelato. They walked for a short distance, he listened to her intently as she explained her way of thinking, small tidbits about her past. He realised in the moment that she’d never really told him all that much about herself before, yet now she spoke to him like he was an open book.

“This looks like a decent place to sit,” she decided, sitting on a park bench just beneath an apple tree, ahead of them was a small duck pond.

His hand trailed along her arm, to her shoulders. “You’re cold. Here, take this. It’s chilly tonight.” He said, draping his jacket over her shoulders, rubbing her arm gently over the suit jacket.

“Thanks.” She agreed, patting the seat for him to sit next to her. The moonlight shone on water, it was hardly late and yet there was almost no one around, aside from the odd dog walker or runner, a handful of teenagers. “You’d never get a night like this, somewhere as pretty as this in California. There’s always so much happening, even when nothing is happening.” She commented.

He nodded his head in agreement. “Where I grew up, it was a bit like this. Before my sister’s injury, we used to feed the ducks together after school. They were definitely simpler times, we didn’t have much, but we had each other and that was plenty.

“You’re a real family man. I imagined you’d have a big family or something.”

“You’ve been thinking about me, have you?” He asked, half a smirk as she fell over her words.

“No, no I— well, I. Stop it.” She hit his arm playfully, scooting in closer to him so her head rested on his shoulder. “I just imagined you as maybe a middle child, you’re terrible at sharing, with lots of brothers.”

“Really? I am not _that_ bad at sharing.”

“You totally are.” She smiled, dipping her spoon into his gelato for a taste.

“You know if you wanted to try the raspberry flavour, you could’ve asked for it.”

“I just wanted to try yours.”

“That works for me.” He laughed. “Good?”

“Good.” She replied. He held the cup out to her as she took another spoonful. “What made you want to be a doctor? Honestly.” She asked.

“After my sister’s injury, things were pretty hard-going. We couldn’t really afford the medical bills, but every time I saw her at the facility I was just so amazed by how they were able to rehabilitate her. At first, she couldn’t move at all, then after some time she started to regain some use, I mean the doctors and nursed worked hard, but Gabby always worked harder.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “I just wanted to be like them, to be able to help in some way. I thought that maybe I could find some amazing cure and fix it all. It didn’t really work out like that, but my wage paid the bills and kept her comfortable, it didn’t take long before I figured I wasn’t so bad at it. Actually I was pretty good at it.”

“I bet your family is really proud of you.” He put his arm around her, placing his head on top of hers; he held her gelato as she ate his. He smiled as he watched her.

“I hope so, in some way anyway.” He wondered if she would tell him more about herself, but he was cautious to not pry, he didn’t want to push her or make her think of anything she didn’t want to remember.

“I was always pretty amazed by you, when we first met. You were this super-cool, clever, brilliant—”

“Handsome,” he interjected with a laugh.

“Oh, definitely handsome. You are such an incredible doctor and surgeon and I just wanted to be around you whenever I could, to learn anything from you I could.”

“You make me a better doctor, Claire. Everything I learn is because of you.” She pulled away from him lightly, turning her head to look into his eyes. The way the moonlight seemed to reflect on her eyes, they shone now as he looked at her. “You are a brilliant doctor, the most intelligent and aware woman I’ve ever met. You’re beautiful.” He placed a hand on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her.

He held her, until she pulled away and rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I could stay here forever.” She told him. _I think I’m falling in love with you_ , she thought.

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm kinda a chapter behind where I wanted to be at this point, but I just keep filibustering basically lol. I hope everyone is safe and well, I'm on night shift soon for the weekend so I don't know how much I'll get chance to write. Stay safe out there, also pls hit me up on tumblr at lamestcaptain if you'd be willing to help with beta reading or just generally want to cry about the season finale because I'm all over that


	6. Positive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire has news and so begins the fallout.

Claire took a long, shaky breath in the bathroom stall of the conference centre. From outside somewhere she heard another round of applause; Morgan would be receiving her award soon. She took another deep breath, casting her eyes down to the pregnancy test again; the two lines were still there, the test still showed a positive. “Damn,” she mumbled to herself, standing and discarding the test quickly.

She went to the sink, washed her hands and splashed water over her face, looking into the mirror as she dried it slowly.

“You alright there honey?” A woman next to her asked. “First time nerves?”

“Uh, yeah. You could say that, I guess.” She inhaled a sniffle, a sad smile on her face.

“The best way about these things in my experience is that you’ve just got to rip the band-aid right off. No beating around the bush.”

“You’re right,” Claire agreed. “Thanks.”

“Take care, good luck.” The woman offered with a quick squeeze of her shoulder.

* * *

“Hey there,” Melendez offered her a glass of champagne, she took it and nursed it in her hand slowly.

“Hi, sorry. Just had to pop out.”

“No worries, gentlemen; this is Doctor Browne, who I mentioned.” She turned to face them, they all had very prodigious and affluent looks about them, if nothing else the expensive suits were a sure-fire sign that these were some important people. “This is Doctor Morley, Professor Ahmad and Doctor Diaz. All exceptional doctors and friends.” He raised his glass in a toast to them.

“Nice to meet you,” Claire greeted, a little shyly. “How did you meet?”

“We were residents together in California, although the American Cardiothoracic Registry Forum makes for an interesting annual meet-up.” One of them remarked and Claire nodded.

“It’s very nice to meet you all.” Claire replied, feeling rather outclassed in front of them all. She was a resident of no particular name or talent, she’d been top of her class at a medical school that unless you’d attended it, you were unlikely to have heard of it. She shrunk into herself slightly at Neil’s side, for the first time recalling that feeling she’d first felt upon meeting as if he cast a great shadow that she stood in. She held onto the glass firmly, brow furrowed deep in thought as she felt increasingly away of how she was in a world that she didn’t belong and how Neil was so far from her. She’d never felt so distant to him.

  
“Ah look, isn’t this your other resident, Neil?”

“Doctor Reznick.” He announced as Morgan took to the stage. Claire joined in with the applause, feeling overwhelming pride for her friend as she gave her speech, accepting her award graciously.

“Excellent work, Neil. You always do turn out some excellent students.” The Professor chuckled, patting him on the back. Neil nodded slightly as Claire watched Morgan intently.

“They tend to do alright for themselves, sometimes a nudge in the right direction is all they need.” He explained.

“Will you excuse me please? I don’t feel too well.” Claire apologised, before Morgan could re-join the group.

“Are you alright?” Neil asked, tilting his head in concern. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. He wanted to sweep her into his arms, to carefully escort her back to his room where he could check her over, see if there was anything he could do to make her feel better. Instead his fingertips flexed awkwardly as he maintained his distance. “Doctor Browne?” He finally added.

“It’s nothing, just a headache. I’ll see you later.”

“These places can be quite stuffy.” Ahmad chimed in.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, you take care.”

“Yeah, bye. I’ll see you later, Doctor Melendez.” She told him, barely passing him a glance as she made her way from the hall.

* * *

“Hey? Are you alright?” Morgan asks as she steps into Claire’s hotel room. “I didn’t see you out there today, I got worried.” Claire looked like she’d been crying, her eyes were red and puffy, her nose looked sore.

“I didn’t feel so good, I— I thought it was for the best if I came back to my room for some Tylenol and…”

“Claire, what’s going on? You can talk to me.”

“Nothing, just a headache.” _God, she was tired._

“Claire—?” She asked carefully, watching as her eyes welled with tears that she couldn’t seem to stop from falling. She took a deep breath in, trying to stifle a sob as she wiped at her nose with a sweater-covered hand. “Claire… Come here.” She soothed carefully, wrapping her in her arms, Claire flung her arms around her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. Morgan guided her to the bed to sit.

“I’m pregnant,” Claire finally blurted out. “And I don’t know what to do about.” She exhaled another deep sob, trying to catch her breath each time.

“Do you know how far along?”

“About 8 to 10 weeks, at a guess.”

“Hey, isn’t that a good thing?” She asked, rubbing small circles on her back. “I mean, new life is exciting, right?” She paused, tentatively. “Do you know who the dad is?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are we talking some kind of long-term thing, or…?” She trailed off.

“I know who it is. We are kind of a thing, I’m not sure. I don’t know what all of this means. I don’t know if things will change… There’s so many things that I thought I knew, but all this time I’ve really known nothing.”

“If there’s something there, then you can work on it. Work it out, no matter what. If he’s worth your time, this maybe will change things a bit, but it shouldn’t make a difference.”

“But how do I know I’m not like my mom? What if one day despite him giving me all the love in the world, it still just isn’t enough and I walk out on him and don’t come back? And don’t try to tell me that being an asshole isn’t a genetic thing, because that’s even worse… how do I know I’m not making all the wrong decisions that make me a bad person, just like she was? What if even if I do everything right I’m just too much like her and I just up and leave? I can’t get close to him because I can’t hurt him. I love him too much, that’s why I can’t love him.”

“And when the world says ‘jump!’ you say thank you, how high? You could’ve done anything with your life, you could’ve been an artist or an Instagram model or the president of the United States, but instead you became a doctor because no matter what is thrown at you, you always just want to help others.”

“It’s Neil.”

“Doctor Melendez? He’s the father?” She pulled away from the embrace, rather disbelievingly. “I don’t understand…”

Claire placed her head in her hands. “I need you to understand… it wasn’t planned, I swear.”

“You mean… all this time? I mean… I don’t understand.” She repeated herself, shaking her head. “I mean, I’d understand if it was anyone else, trying to get ahead, get their name in contention for Chief Resident but not you. I thought you were different.” She furrowed her brows.

“You make it sound so bad when you say it like that. It wasn’t like that, I promise you. It’s not what you think.”

“Is there a way for anyone this to sound good Claire? Don’t you hear what you’re saying?”

“We were just _friends_ , then it got more serious. None of it was planned, he was just there when I needed him to be—”

“So you slept with him?” She asked, incredulous.

“No… Well, yes. But it didn’t happen like that.” She sobbed, Morgan stood, retreating. She looked like she’d been burned.

“I thought we were finally getting somewhere Claire. I never had you down for someone so ruthless, but it looks like I was wrong. I thought you were one of the good guys on this program.”

“Please, you’re not understanding what I’m saying.” She tried again, wiping her tears away, her voice becoming more desperate.

“And today of all days, you couldn’t even be happy for me? You couldn’t come along and celebrate this moment with me. You came all this way for what? So you could screw our Attending in another state? You’re unbelievable. I can’t believe I was so stupid.” She made her way to the door.

“Morgan, please don’t go. You’re the only friend I have and I need your help.”

“We’re not friends, Claire. You’ve made that clear enough. Why don’t you go back to California, take your spot as Chief Resident you’ve slept your way to? Even if the others can’t see it, I’ll always know how you got it, don’t forget that. God, you really are just like the rest of them; I hope it all makes you happy.” She closed the door behind herself, leaving Claire alone in the silence of her room.

  
  


The emptiness and silence was overwhelming, she could hear the way her heart beat and her own empty sobs that she tried to stifle. She placed her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes to try and stop the tears from falling.

She sat in the quiet of her room for some time, considering a dozen possibilities that seemed to come and go faster than she could properly account for them. She’d never explicitly discussed kids with Neil, she didn’t know if he even _wanted_ children and then how would she survive? She would have to hand her head in shame and ask him for some kind of child support, she’d have to leave her work and give up on her dreams to raise a child – she didn’t even have the faintest idea what raising a child would even entail in the first place. She’d just about managed to raise herself, but that had been a struggle. What if she was genetically predisposed to the same traits her mom had shown? What if she was bringing a small human into the world for it to live a life of misery with her for a mother? Would Neil abandon her the moment he found out? Had she been foolishly led astray by a charming senior doctor, promising her the world in exchange for sex until someone prettier or smarter came along? She let out an overwhelming sob, her hands clutching at her belly.

Neil could love the idea, he could ask to do right by her and marry her, to raise a family with him… but all that was just a dream. So little had gone right so far in her life and truly what could she even offer him? She was a doctor of fair-to-middling talent, no particular accolades, no famous father and no hedge fudge; she was barely an eligible candidate for the partner of someone like him. She had made a foolish mistake and in doing so had lost her only friends.

Claire had begun to believe that her life was changing for the better, she had a stable home life, a job she loved, a small handful of friends, she was friends with a man she loved and even if she never had the opportunity to tell him that she _loved_ him it would suffice to at least be around him. It made her heart _ache_ , just how much she loved him and how she had thrown away the opportunity to tell him so. This couldn’t carry on, none of it was sustainable – she didn’t live in his world.

“Claire?” Neil called, knocking on her room door.

“Give me a minute,” she called. She sniffled, wiping her face and finding her feet. She walked to the bathroom to wash her face with cold tap water, letting it wash over her. She took a moment to steady herself as the water splashed, feeling a wave of nausea and lightheadedness wash over her. She clasped her hand to her mouth quickly, moving to fall to her knees at the toilet.

“Claire? Are you alright?” He called from the hallway. “Do you need me to fetch a doctor?” He shouted. She didn’t reply, he pressed his ear to the doorframe trying to listen for anything, just to know that she was alright. He rattled the door handle, trying to open it. “Claire? Claire?!” He called again, becoming more frantic.

“Hey,” she spoke softly, finally opening the door. He saw that she’d been crying, the way her eyes sparkled beneath puffy, red eyes. He moved to take her in his arms but she took a step away from him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, tilting his head in concern. She looked paler than he’d ever seen her before; she looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“I’m fine.” She lied; his heart sunk. She clearly wasn’t fine so why did she lie to him? “I just need to rest. I don’t feel well.”

“I can see that.” He told her, desperately wanting to take her in his arms. “What’s going on?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. He scanned his eyes across her, trying to look for any obvious sign for concern.

“Neil,” she began sternly. “I just need to rest. It’s just a migraine… Who are your friends?”

“They’re old colleagues from my residency days. We were going to play poker, I was going to ask if you wanted to join but if you’re sick, I can stay here and look after you, I—”

“There’s no need, really. It’s just a bad migraine; I’ve taken some aspirin already. I really need some space and quiet, why don’t you go join your friends and we can catch up maybe over breakfast when I feel a little stronger?” She offered.

He watched her for a moment, silently. Trying to consider what he could say. She’d never shown him this cold front before; it was like all the doors she’d opened to him had now shut firmly in his face. His shoulders sagged slightly, he rubbed his temples; maybe she was right. Maybe all she needed was just some rest and they’d sort this out in the morning. But he desperately longed to hold her, to run his hand through her hair and to gently soothe her until her worries had subsided – that was selfish of him. What she needed and was asking for was space and he had to respect that; this wasn’t about him or what he wanted. “Are you sure you’re alright? I don’t want you to be on your own if you’re sick. I can stay.”

“I don’t need nursing Neil, I need peace.” She rubbed her fingertips at her temples, the headache pounding and she already felt the nausea creeping up again. She couldn’t allow herself to humiliate herself in front of him… he couldn’t know that she was pregnant, not right now. She had too much to think about. “Please,” she began, her words quieter than she’d like. “Just… let me get some sleep.”

He took a step towards her, hugging her with one arm carefully. He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I care a lot about you Claire,” he whispered against her skin. “Call me for anything at all, I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” He told her. She nodded slowly, squeezing his arm slightly.

“Goodnight, Claire.” He told her, as she saw him out.

“Goodnight Neil,” she sighed, her voice quiet. “I… love you.” She told him as the door closed behind him.

Neil stood there in the corridor, fixed to the spot, long after she’d closed the door. He wanted to tell her that he loved her; why had those words become so hard for him? Why had he distanced himself so far from such simple words on the back of the failure of his relationships? Would it even make a distance for him to tell her now? Perhaps she already knew in some way, their relationship had grown to transcend so many words and so much was said by glances and touches. He exhaled deeply, willing the words to come. It felt as if once they were spoken he couldn’t take them back and he was inviting himself for a new lifetime of heartbreak, just like before with Preston or with Lim. It was as if he could not allow his heart to ache any more, by uttering those words, even despite how his heart ached and longed for her now. She knew, didn’t she? He didn’t have to say the words. _She knew,_ he decided.

* * *

When Neil woke with bleary eyes, the sun assaulted his vision. It took him a moment to adjust, his arm was draped across his eyes as he inhaled and exhaled carefully. The room seemed quiet; painfully quiet. He had grown used to waking to the dip in the bed at his side and the sight of Claire, or that very particular perfume she wore, sometimes she would even be rested in his arms with her head against his chest. When he woke today, his bed felt cold and empty. He missed the touch of her, the smell of her, he craved having her in his arms again, to tell her how much she meant to him. To finally tell her that he loved her. 

He swung his legs out, moving himself upright as his hand rested at the nape of his neck. His head seemed to ache dully with the regret of the whiskey from the night before. His mouth was dry as he set about the first task of pouring himself a glass of water. He padded slowly along the hardwood floor towards the minibar fridge. His eyes cast around the room, finally settling on his watch. It was 10am. He was supposed to meet Claire for breakfast, damn it. He went to the bedside table, searching for his mobile… The battery was drained. He cursed himself again, searching for the charging cable as he recalled the night prior when he had merrily made his way back to his hotel room, inebriated and in good spirits from the poker game, despite his losses with Claire at the back of his mind.

He flopped back down onto the bed, his eyes resting on a small envelope on the floor. It must’ve been slid under the door at some point, he deduced. Maybe it was Claire, checking up on him or scheduling a meeting for the day.

He slid his finger along the spine of the envelope. “Ow, shit.” He cursed as the paper nicked his flesh – he sucked on it carefully as he fiddled the rest of the envelope open with one hand.

_‘Neil,_

_This is your world, not mine. I’m sorry._

_I don’t know what this is, but whatever it is,_

_I don’t think it’s going to work with us_

_I think you deserve someone more like you._

_One day you’ll find her and you’ll be able_

_to tell her freely how much you love her._

_I’m going home, I’m going to be the best_

_doctor I can be._

_All my love, now and always_

_C’_

“Shit.” He grumbled aloud again, holding the letter in his hand as he rubbed at his forehead. “Claire…” He’d allowed himself to be carried away by his own fears and complexes, perhaps if he had simply told her how much she meant to him, that he loved her nonetheless she would have allowed him to take her in his arms and stay by her side until the illness passed. Instead he’d selfishly allowed himself to be carried away by his own priorities and an immature need to meet up with friends for a poker game while Claire _suffered_ alone. He went back to his mobile as it finally restarted, he had no missed calls or messages from Claire and he frowned, quickly dialing her number from speed-dial. It rang and rang and rang with no answer. He hung up, dialing again and again with the same response. He sat back down on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

“Claire it’s me, Neil. Can you, uh, call me when you get this?”

He exhaled deeply, a hand massaging his tense shoulder as he put his mobile aside. “Claire… I love you.” He mumbled, far too late.

* * *

Claire glanced at her mobile. 7 missed calls from Neil, she sighed, before Lim caught her eye across the foyer, she stuffed her phone into her pocket and made her way over to her quickly.

“Good morning, Doctor Lim.” Claire greeted sheepishly, stepping towards her. She’d managed to catch a couple of hours sleep in-flight, going straight from the airport to work, collecting her lab coat and a set of scrubs on her way. She felt tired, but reassured herself that she was none the more tired than how tired she ordinarily would be as part and parcel of her life as a resident 

“Doctor Browne?” She began, turning her head as she recognised the voice. “I thought you were in Dakota at the research presentation with Doctor Reznick?”

“Mm,” she agreed. “I wasn’t going to gain any surgical experience rubbing shoulders in Dakota,” she began, playing with her fingers in front of herself awkwardly. “I came home early, I wondered if I could follow you today…? I heard about a trauma fellowship in Ontario, Canada and I thought I could gain experience before applying to study.” She explained.

“A prestigious program, you think you’re ready to commit to something like that?” She asked, skeptically.

“I took my eye off the ball for a while, but I’ve learned now. I’m ready to focus and I want you learn from _you_. You’re the best trauma surgeon in the state, one of the _best_ in the country.”

“I won’t lie to you Claire, it’s not going to be easy for you,” she warned. “You’re not a man, so you’ll have to work twice as hard as your male counter-parts.”

“I understand.”

“You’ll practically be dedicating your life to trauma, there’s no going back from this.”

“I know, I’m ready to make that commitment. I want to learn everything you’ll teach me. I want to be the best surgeon in the state, I _want_ to be Chief Resident.”

“A woman who knows her mind, I like it.” She smiled, patting Claire carefully on the shoulder. “Well, us women in medicine have to stick together. Welcome to the team, Doctor Browne.”

“Thank you, Doctor Lim, I really appreciate it.”

“Let’s go get a coffee and we’ll talk more about it, then I’ll introduce you to your team-mates and rivals.”

Claire smiled weakly with a brief nod of the head, falling quickly in step with Lim as she led the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to re-write half of this chapter as Word crashed after I'd written about 1,000 words without saving so it kinda killed my motivation briefly. Sorry!! Again, thank you so much for every single person who is still reading this and still commenting! I really appreciate it, especially when my motivation can be lacking sometimes after the season 3 finale and what happened so thank you so much! You guys inspire me to write more. Please leave comments, kudos, bookmarks or anything if you like this story so I know! Also you can follow me on tumblr at lamestcaptain <3


	7. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire's finally coming to a resolution in her mind, as she begins to feel the far-reaching effects of her revelation with devastating effects.

Claire felt another wave of nausea and dizziness wash over her, dropping the soap to the floor with a grotesque clattering that seemed to draw the attention of anyone near by to her. Her hand grasped at the basin of the sink, seeking leverage to fix herself into place. _So much for being inconspicuous,_ she berated herself in her mind. Before she could even hesitate, nurse Khine was at her side with a worried expression.

“Damn it, I’m gonna have to start again.” She grumbled, her cleansing routine abruptly halted

“Let me take a look at you honey,” Khine offered, scrubbing out to feel Claire’s forehead. “No fever, but you look like someone walked over your grave. I think you need to sit down.”

“I just skipped breakfast, I was late leaving my apartment this morning. Sitting down is the last thing I need right now, I—.” she trailed off, seeing Khine’s expression.

“Sweetie, there’s no prize for which resident gets the most lap cholecystectomies done in a year, but the residents that faint mid-surgery tend to go down in history.”

“I really don’t feel so good. Thank you.” Claire offered her a weary smile, sitting on a stool Khine brought over to her.

“Do you want me to call Melendez, maybe he—.”

“No, no. I mean, there’s no need to call him. Who’s second on call resident for general surgery today?” She interrupted abruptly at the mention of Melendez and the possibility of him catching wind of her being sick. She had enough on her plate without him worrying about her.

“Today it’s Korsakov.”

“He’s sensible enough, can you page him? Do you mind… not mentioning this?” She asked.

“Of course I can. If you promise to go get something to eat, I’ll even tell him you got paged for an ICU code blue on a nephrectomy.”

“Carry on keeping the nurses happy with those good analgesia plans and discharge orders and you’ll go far. Besides the OR is a tough enough place for women, we have to look out for each other.”

“I really appreciate it, thank you.”

“I was the same with my third. Do you want walking to the staff room or will you be alright?” Claire looked at her, perplexed.

“Uh, no, I can manage. Thanks though.”

* * *

Claire had been stirring the polystyrene cup of coffee in the staff room for a long while, she was so engrossed by watching the small bubbles at the surface swirl around she hadn’t heard Shaun’s approach, which was unusual for her – she could usually hear him coming from a mile away.

“What message would someone be conveying in texting the eye-rolling symbol? It’s an obscure message that doesn’t make any sense.” Shaun immediately berated, sitting across from her. His voice seemed to ring loudly in her ears today, she felt the beginnings of a headache behind her eyes, she tensed up and rubbed at her forehead.

“I don’t know, uh, it depends on the context I suppose.” She decided, sensing a drawn out conversation on the horizon that she didn’t feel like having right now. For all his quirks and how much Claire cared for him, she wanted peace to process her thoughts and to try settle the curdling sensation in her belly.

“What context would that be?” He asked.

“It can be sarcasm, wit, maybe a joke. I don’t know Shaun, it can mean a lot of things.”

“Emojis are supposed to abridge communication and information sharing, but it has too many variants and is too open for speculation. A well constructed message or face-to-face conversation can avoid misunderstanding.” He decided, concluding to respond to the message with an affirmative, polite greeting as Claire had once told him he should.

_‘Okay. Received. Shaun.’_

His response was significantly more informative than his work colleague, but nonetheless.

“You seem quiet today. Are you unhappy?”

“No, no. I’m all good. Just feeling a little bit queasy, nothing much.” She defended herself quickly, a little too hotly.

“Would feeling unwell make you look unhappy?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Look Shaun, I, uh, could do with some space right now.”

“If you feel unwell, you could explain your symptoms to me, as a doctor I could help to diagnose the cause of your illness and provide appropriate triage and advice.” She looked at the bowl of salad in front of her like she’d never seen something so repulsive in her entire life. “Do you not like salad anymore?”

“Just queasy,” she replies, placing her forehead against the palm of her hand.

“You have nausea, without vomiting and associated weight loss, dizziness, headaches, general fatigue and lethargy, lack of appetite which could indicate otitis media, a brain tumour or you’re your new onset of rapid mood cycling; pregnancy.”

“Would you keep your voice down? I am not pregnant.” She practically hissed through her teeth, pushing the salad away. Any appetite she had is now long gone.

“Then a brain tumour is the second most plausible theory, you should schedule for a head CT and MRI immediately to rule out.”

“Shaun, I’m not—.”

“You’ve been working with Doctor Lim more, recently.” He observes.

“Yeah, there’s a trauma fellowship up for grabs in Ontario and I thought it would be better if I had more experience in trauma surgery before I apply. Doctor Lim is a great doctor and a brilliant surgeon. I’ve learned a lot working with her. I was even hoping that she would consider providing me with a reference.”

“Do you find any benefit working with Doctor Lim to Doctor Melendez? Do you find the professional distance makes you a better surgeon when you work with her?”

“Excuse me? You’re in way over your head.” She scoffs, standing abruptly. He looks at her, trying to decipher her outburst.

“You’re unhappy.”

“You can’t just say these things, Shaun.” Her brows furrow, she feels a chill run down her spine. Her pager bleeps loudly, interrupting her thoughts before she can say anything that she might regret. She’s never been more relieved to be paged before.

_Major Trauma Incoming. Trauma team to attend ER._

“I have to go.” She excuses herself, making her way to the ER.

* * *

Doctor Lim had taken Claire under her wing, she had been a firm but fair mentor and so long as Claire was able to meet the demands of the pace she was setting, Lim was happy enough for her to scrub in on extra-curricular trauma surgeries. While the other residents on the team found the onerous schedule gruelling, Claire had found some comfort in it; the late hours, the back to back on-calls, the early starts and the hours spent buried in textbooks provided her enough excuse to not think about her growing problem, or Neil. Instead, she had decided to relish what time she had left before Neil would realise that she was pregnant or before her life was flipped upside down by bringing a child into the world by throwing herself head first into what mattered most to her: Her job.

Claire set a moderate pace to the ER to meet the incoming trauma, nothing too fast, it could be some time just yet before it arrived to the hospital, but she could make herself useful by finding who took the trauma call to begin to form a plan; how many casualties, what was the method of injury, any approximate ages or time of onset? All things for her to consider for managing the call and prove to Lim that she had the leadership skills necessary for the fellowship.

She set about washing her hands at the basin, a distinctive ache in her low back pushing its way to the forefront of her mind. She was barely at the end of her first trimester and the symptoms were already exhausting her, particularly when combined with her coping mechanism of throwing herself head first into her work.

“Hey, can we talk?” She recognised that voice, she turned around abruptly on the balls of her feet to face Neil.

“Doctor Melendez… I’m just preparing for the incoming trauma.”

“Doctor Melendez?” He asked, a breathy sigh. “There’s no one around to hear, Claire.”

“It’s called setting a precedent.” She retorted, picking up a gown from the trolley, pushing her arms through steadily. _Damn_ , she must’ve slept on her side funny; her shoulder ached sharply through to her back as she moved to fasten the gown. She inhaled sharply through gritted teeth as she reached for the tie.

“May I?” He asked, she nodded and turned her back to him for him to take the ties and fasten them for her. “You’ve barely said a word to me in 2 weeks, Claire. Is it something I said? Has something happened? Because whatever it is, we can fix this together, I promise.” He told her.

She sighed quietly. “Nothing’s happened Neil. It just took me a while to realise, but I’m no good for you.”

“So you transferred to Lim’s team and avoid me for weeks? I know you, Claire. There’s something eating away at you and you won’t tell me what it is.” He furrowed his brow, watching her closely with a tone of concern lacing his words. “I’m worried about you. Whatever you’re dealing with, I can help. You don’t have to go through anything alone.”

“It’s nothing you can help with, I’m fine Neil.” She sighed, putting on her visor and fixing her gloves.

“Even if you don’t love me anymore, don’t care for me—”

“How can you say that?” She interrupted, words hissing quietly through gritted teeth. “How could you believe that I would just walk away from you willingly? Even if you can’t say it back, I love you, Neil and that doesn’t just go away in an instant, but this is for the best. We’re from completely different worlds. You’re my superior and I’m… just me.”

“Is this because I didn’t say I l—”

“Don’t say those words Neil, because if you do my heart will break into a thousand pieces and I cannot _hurt_ anymore. I’m _tired_ , Neil… I’ve had enough.” Tears welled at her eyes and placed a hand carefully on her upper arm, trying to comfort her in some way. He looked down at the ground, realising how much his heart ached.

“It’s for the best.” Her voice had gone up in pitch as she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill freely.

“Best for who?” He asked, shaking his head. “Claire, I don’t want this. I want to be with you… I want to make you the happiest woman. If I could give you the world, I would.”

“It just wouldn’t work between us.” He looked at her sadly as he fixed his gloves, neither of them looked well for the two weeks’ distance; his eyes carried bags beneath them, his skin seemed sallow.

“Doctor Melendez,” a voice interrupted. It was Lim, approaching them at a certain speed. Claire had never been more thankful for her interruption. “Might I steal my resident from you for a short while?”

“Of course,” he replied.

“We were finished anyway,” Claire remarked. “Trauma call is two adults, approximately late 20s, four adults, approximately mid 40s and one child, under the age of 10. Car vs car vs pedestrian on bicycle. The child was on the bicycle. Santa Maria’s ER is closed for a crime scene investigation, so even though we’re pretty close to capacity, the patient flow team have accepted all casualties. General surgery have been paged to attend,” she gestured to Neil. “And the paediatrics team are also on their way. Major haemorrhage has already been declared, however field report states that one casualty is a Jehovah’s Witness, so pharmacy stores are aware in case we need any blood product alternatives. Cell salvage kit is also being prepared in OR 3, ready to receive the patient.”

“Good job, Doctor Browne.” Lim commended with a broad smile. “You’re good at this.”

“Thank you,” she replied shyly. Neil folded his arms.

“So, primary concerns?”

“Triage, identify priority for staffing and OR availability.”

“Nice, anything else?” Lim asked, sliding her arms into her own gown. Claire furrowed her brow briefly, moving her shoulder as the dull ache in her shoulder throbbed momentarily. “Are you alright?” She asked.

“Oh, yes. Fine, thank you. Just slept on my side a little funny, it’ll pass. Crit-care is aware and expecting us. The police are already on scene. Dynamic risk assessment.”

“You know all the buzz words, excellent. You’ve really started to shine, these last couple of weeks Claire and I’ve got to say I’m pretty impressed, you’re practically a shoe-in for the fellowship at this rate. Let’s get going.” She congratulated, walking to the entrance of the ER to wait by the doors.

“The fellowship?” Neil asked quietly. Claire’s heart ached; she was already biting back tears and trying to distract herself from the moment by fussing with her gown. “Let me help.” Neil offered, carefully taking the ties behind the surgical gown, tying a gently knot. “Not too tight?”

“No, thank you.” She replied meekly. He passed the ties around her waist, for her to tie at the front as he buttoned the collar.

“There you go.” He told her, taking a quiet step back. He leaned against the wall, folding his arms.

“There’s a trauma fellowship in Ontario, Doctor Lim has been coaching me.”

“Canada? Really?” He sighed deeply. “Doctor Lim is incredibly fortunate to have you on her team.” Claire looked at him, her eyes fixed on his and for a moment she was speechless; she’d always been terrible at accepting his praise, but now of all times it seemed even harder to accept. She nodded slightly and he looked away, his shoulders seemed to sag. “If that’s what you want Claire, then I am incredibly happy for you. Audrey is an exceptional tutor and you’re a brilliant surgeon already; with her you could be one of the brightest names in trauma soon. I’m happy for you.” He affirmed.

Claire’s heart seemed to ache; she furrowed her brow and curled her lip. Looking for something to say, she parted her lips, then closed them as she realised she was without words.

“Thank you.”

“I just want you to be happy, Claire. Above all I want your happiness and safety, nothing else in the world matters more to me. If you don’t share the feelings for me that I have for you, then I respect your decision and I only want your success. I really do—.”

Claire hesitated, inhaling sharply for a moment with a squint as a sharp pain radiated to her shoulder, sending tendrils of soreness along her spine and through her ribs. She leaned forwards slightly, wrapping her arms around herself to ease it. She rubbed at her back for a moment and prayed the pain away; her head felt light and she tried to move herself back upright.

“Claire?!” Neil called out to her, interrupting her thoughts as she took another sharp breath in. “Claire are you alright?” He asked, moving towards her, placing a hand carefully on her shoulder, as if he was afraid she might snap under his grasp.

“I’m fine, it’s just a back spasm, I’ve been working long hours lately.” She reassured.

“I know you have.” His face was marred with concern, he watched as she tried to hold back her expression, trying to hide her pain from him. He could see right through her. “Why don’t you take a break? I can take this—.”

“I’m fine, Doctor Melendez.” She affirmed, sounding distant. She wanted to sob into his shoulder, to tell him everything. She wanted for him to wrap his arms around her and tell her it’d all be alright but now wasn’t the time or place, she had multiple casualties on the way in who needed the team to be ready and focused. She could burn the bridge of her personal life later on when she got to it.

“Right, of course.” He replied sadly, his forehead creased as he observed her looking for anything—any sign of her pain or trouble, to decipher what was on her mind; why she had suddenly become so distant from him. Was it his words, or lack thereof? Had he been the one to trouble her mind so deeply?

For a moment she found herself lost in her imagination, imagining a world where she would live happily with Neil, raising a child that was happy and healthy, sharing a home together; taking walks in the park in the Californian sun, ice cream at the beach, building messy sandcastles, they would have a garden that Neil would waste his time in, away from the stresses of work. He would cook and she would clean. She imagined them at the store, choosing the colour to paint the walls of the nursery, choosing the first pair of socks for a child to wear, all those little significant moments in time that are so special. Maybe she would turn out to be like her mom after all; perhaps despite everything she would be a terrible person – but how bad can you be, so long as you try? She sighed, his eyes fixed on hers again.

“Let’s talk later.” She spoke quietly, her brows furrowed lightly; her eyes seemed to sparkle as if she held back tears or some other emotion. He nodded, in agreement.

“I’d like that. Do you want to come to my place?” He suggested, he wanted to wrap her up and keep her safe, away from all the sadness and hurt. She was strong enough to take it, he knew that and god did he admire her for it; it was selfish of him to want those things but he wanted to be her shield.

“Yeah, I uh, don’t know when I’ll finish tonight. These trauma calls are pretty off schedule…” She added, awkwardly.

“I’ll wait for you. Text me when you’ve done and we can ride together. I’m sure there’s probably some outstanding essential emails that I can reply to.” He joked, she knew how much he found the admin side of his role a bane, but dutifully tended to it. She laughs slightly, a breathy laugh, it sounded as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Alright, tonight then. I’ll text you.” She told him.

“Gotcha.” He replied, watching her leave as she went to follow Lim to the entrance. 

* * *

Claire had joined Lim at the entrance of the ER, waiting by the ambulance bay. Lim was a vision of calm and thoughtfulness as she awaited the arrival of the first casualties; Claire could only look at her with great admiration as she stood, donned in her gown and gloves with her fingers joined carefully in front of her.

“Do you want to lead this one?” Lim asked, barely missing a beat as she stared into the distance with a thoughtful expression. “I’m confident you can hack it, sometimes the only way to learn is to be thrown in at the deep end.”

“Me?” She began, slightly incredulous. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. The triage process is the easy bit, you start with the airway, check they’re breathing, so on and so forth. Then top to toe, the harder part is in the OR when you’re trying to stitch all the pieces back together. Stay calm and collected, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay, uh, thank you.” She replied, not really sure what to say. Was this some sort of compliment or a test? She chided herself as she realised she was thinking about it too deeply.

Claire heard the sirens of the first ambulance approaching; the teams began to gather accordingly. She inhaled carefully. “I want a runner for every patient, we’re not taking any time to scrub out or step away from the patient. Win, respiratory therapist is already present and ready to support with any difficult airways. He’s a safe pair of hands – use them. We have limited space already, but we’ve got enough to tide us over. Anaesthetics are on their way to commence with any assessment, the goal is as little time in the ER to get to the OR so we can get ready for the next patient. Stay calm and focused, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.” She remarked, looking to Lim for approval.

“Good.” Lim nodded in agreement. She seemed satisfied with the choice as Claire began to process her plan.

“We have limited information at the moment, so we’ll work the rest out on arrival.” The first ambulance pulled up, almost simultaneously with the second as the teams prepared to take on their roles. Claire rubbed at her aching shoulder again, pressing her fingers against the pressure point and rolling the joint to ease the tension.

  
Neil had kept his distance, a few feet from her and Lim at the opposite side of the ambulance bay, he’d waited patiently as the members of his newly formed team congregated around him. He seemed lost in his own mind with his eyes planted on Claire, waiting for her to say something, maybe to come over to him… anything. But she continued, in her own world and on a roll. If anyone could manage this, it would be her, he thought. He felt a small swell of pride and held back the tiniest smile.

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes – something didn’t feel quite right as the EMTs stepped out to fling the doors of the ambulance open, pulling the guerney out with the first patient.

“25 year old female, traumatic cardiac arrest after colliding with surface in vehicle after the driver swerved to avoid hitting the kid. Airway secured on scene, compressions started, vented on high flow by bag. Shockable rhythm restored to recognition of spontaneous circulation on shock 3. GCS 5. Significant abdominal trauma is noted.” The EMT rolled off the handover.

“Okay, trauma 1 please.” She called, without looking in his direction as Melendez stepped up to take on his patient.

“First driver is a no-go,” the EMT began sadly. “Pronounced dead on scene, coroner informed. Police are following not far behind, they’ll want to take over the stomping ground for sure.” Claire nodded in understanding, taking a slight step back as another wave of light-headedness crash over her out of nowhere, leaving behind a malaise of nausea in its wake. She head the EMT say something else that seemed far too distant for her to understand, but as her eyes re-opened after what felt like an eternity in second, Neil appeared to have understood as the patient was wheeled away.

“We’re still expecting 6 casualties. We don’t let up, keep the pace and keep calm.” She explained as the second team collected their patient, this time it was the kid and as Claire clasped eyes on him, she thought she would faint on the spot. She’d never particularly been the queasy type before now, it was if this all held some kind of new meaning that she couldn’t process or fathom. Reznick brushed her aside.

“Let’s take trauma 4. Where the hell are paediatrics?” She called ahead.

“Go ahead, I’ll go fast bleep them.” Claire called, using it as an excuse to depart from the ambulance bay as the sirens rang loudly in her ears, vibrating deeply into her head. She picked up the phone, dialling the switchboard to fast bleep the on-call paediatric emergency team. “Damn,” she muttered as she pressed her hand to her back, the ache had now shifted further into her belly as she felt pressed by nausea, as she began to make her way back to the bay, diverting to the bathroom quickly.

She doffed her protective equipment quickly, casting it aside on the sink before kneeling at the stall, tossing her hair behind her as she retched, the pain in her flank throbbing and radiating and tears threatened to spill. She inhaled deeply, clutching onto the toilet as she wished for a moment that Neil was here, rubbing her back and soothing her, maybe Morgan or even her mom. Just some to tell her that it’d all be alright in the end and that everything would somehow work out. She found her feet quickly, knowing Lim would already be wondering where she was.

Claire’s reflection stared back at her in the mirror as she scrubbed her hands clean, afterwards splashing her face with water to wipe the thin sheen of sweat from her brow. She looked so damn pale, her skin was sallow and she saw that even her makeup couldn’t hide the lines of exhaustion beneath her eyes. She hesitated as her vision blurred and the plain bathroom stalls and white walls seemed to spin and rotate around her, she felt as if the world would be torn from beneath her feet as an involuntary yelp escaped her lips as the pain worsened. Her hand clasped over her mouth as she didn’t know whether to cry or shout for help, as she was fixed on the spot by her pain and sickness.

As the world continued to spin, she felt the contrasting cooling warmth spreading through her body, easing the contrasting fire and ice that burned at her, her shoulders beginning to sag. She looked up to the ceiling, for a moment fixated by a mark of grey that seemed to stand out to her as her body slowly collapsed to the ground, crumpling softly on the floor. Her eyes stared at the grey mark, still fixated by it as her eyes drifted closed slowly, the sound of her pager bleeping gently somewhere in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took forever to write, I've been at work on the ICU for the last few nights and I've been so tired, then when I've felt awake enough to write I've not really felt like delving much into the medical world. I really hope you're all safe out there! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos, they really keep me going, it's quite easy to feel so disillusioned by the season finale, but I love this pairing and so long as others are interested I'll keep writing!


	8. After the Darkest Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil's coming to term with Claire's news and a life-changing diagnosis. Lim steps up to the plate to shoulder the responsibility as Morgan seeks to repair a broken friendship.

“Push another amp of epi, if we can _just_ get a shockable rhythm, we’ll have somewhere to go from.”

“Doctor Reznick, I think this is futile.” Neil spoke carefully as Morgan continued the internal cardiac massage. “She’s been down now for 40 minutes without any electrical activity, she’s arrested twice and we just can’t maintain circulating volume, she’s losing it quicker than we’re replacing it. The injuries from the crash are just too severe, we can even stitch this up, there’s nothing that can be put back together.” His words were soft, empathetic, almost apologetic.

“Okay, I’ll call it.” She replied, withdrawing her hand from around the woman’s heart. “Time of death, 19:47.”

“27 is no age.” Melendez conceded with a deep sigh from behind his surgical mask. “I’m going to scrub out, I’ll head to the ER, see if they need anymore help there. Take your time; come and find me when you’re finished up here. I’ll see if there’s any next of kin.”

“Actually, do you mind if I talk to the family?” She asked, already working carefully at the sutures. “Just for closure.”

“If you’re sure… I don’t see why not.” He nodded in agreement; she didn’t look up from her work as he made his way from the OR, doffing his gloves and gown to scrub out. She passed a brief glance at him beyond the window as he washed his hands, pulling his scrub hat off in frustration. He took a great, deep breath and stood straight, pulling his shoulders back as he exited the OR, leaving his frustrations and grief at the door as he prepared to take on whatever next challenge was to come his way.

* * *

A short while later, Morgan met up with him in the ER as he flicked through some papers, a troubled expression. He spoke softly with the police officer, explaining the extent of injuries, that they were non-survivable and that he had been unable to save her life. She watched him as he took all the responsibility for her life on broad shoulders. There was a social worker stood parallel to him.

“Her name was Alicia Martinez, 27 year old, the driver is her sister.” The police officer told him.

“Any other next of kin?” Neil asked. The police officer shrugged. 

“I’ve got a colleague searching through records, trying to dig up what we can find. Did her sister survive?”

Neil nodded slowly. “As far as I know, she’s in ICU, critical but stable. I don’t know the ins and outs, she wasn’t my patient; Try asking Doctor Browne, she’s coordinating this thing.” He explained.

“I’ve not seen Doctor Browne yet, I’m still looking for her.”

“Maybe she’s tied up in the OR. You know how these things can be. Damn, alright. I’ll leave it with you, page me if you find a number for the family.”

Morgan made her way over to Neil as he departed from the conversation; he had an aura of confidence and self-assurance, he seemed in control of the situation, but Morgan saw a crack in his façade, saw that tiny sliver of sadness in his soul as his eyes scanned the ER board.

“Two in intensive care, three still in the OR, two haven’t made it.” He updated her.

“Damn, that’s awful.” She commiserated, looking at the patients names on the ER board, trying to focus on something else for a moment; anything other than the pain and sadness that came with the job. Maybe there was some surgical consult she could provide here.

“Why don’t you take a break, we’ll regroup in 30 minutes and start rounds on the post-op patients in ICU… There was nothing more we could’ve done in there,” he reassured her. “If there was anything you’d missed, I would’ve pointed it out. You were thorough; the injuries were just too severe.”

“Thanks.” She replied quietly, it was little consolation but she’d take it for now. “Do you want a coffee fetching or anything? I’m going back to the staff room.”

“I’m alright. Go and take some time for yourself away. I’ll catch up with you in a little while.”

She agreed, departing as he buried his head in some notes on the ER desk, readying himself to move on to the next patient and provide a consult.

Morgan’s hand rubbed slightly at her nose, then she fiddled with her hair at her shoulder as she made her way across the ER, trying to hide her expression as she walked. She felt the burning in her throat and the heat at her eyes as tears threatened to spill that she tried so hard to hold back; she felt so powerless. Despite all the best education, the years of practice and preparation, even the skill of someone like Melendez and they still couldn’t save their patient from what was an outrageously tragic accident. It was something that no-one could have prevented the amount of devastation it had caused.

Her mind harked back to Claire, she wanted to call her when this was over… even if only just to catch up, try and mend the bridge she’d broken when she’d heard Claire’s revelation. She’d been angry, damn it and she’d acted out of hastiness and hurt when she’d said those things; she’d felt like Claire had grabbed the spotlight from her in her moment of celebration and excitement and she’d been unkind. She’d lashed out and now she was determined to make it up to her somehow, she was a good friend and colleague and she’ll be damned if she was going to let her disappear to Canada without an apology at least.

* * *

Neil made his way to the cubicle, patient notes in hand. He wondered where Claire was, what she was doing. Maybe she was in surgery still, there were still 3 patients in the OR after the crash and maybe she was just tied up there; a small smile tugged at the edge of his lips as his heart swelled with a mixed feeling of admiration, pride and adoration. She’d grown so much since he’d met her, not that he could take any credit for that, she was a brilliant surgeon in her own right and with Lim she could make a great name for herself. But he still couldn’t sink that selfish feeling, how he wanted her to still work by his side every day, to see her smile before morning rounds or to take lunch with her… even for him to drive her home after a long day. He missed her, that was a given and he’d blown his chance when she’d told him something that despite all his worldly life experience, he couldn’t say back then out of fear of losing her somehow and in doing so, he had lost her.

He pulled the curtain behind himself as he made his way over to the patient’s bed as he lay there with his husband by his side.

“Hi there, I’m Doctor Melendez, I’m one of the Attending surgeons here. Can you tell me a bit about what’s brought you in today Sir?” He asked, looking between the patient and his husband.

“It started around three weeks ago when I hit my toe while gardening,” the patient began diligently. “I went a bit dizzy, you know? Nothing too much, just assumed it was some kind of reaction, didn’t think much of it until today. Brian here says I passed out at the grocery store. I don’t really remember anything; suppose I wouldn’t though, would I doc?”

“Quite right,” Melendez explained, taking a moment to scroll through the patient’s CT scan. “Any particular notable family history? Says here in your notes that on your maternal side your mother had heart disease.”

“For the most part, fit as a fiddle. I don’t really think there’s much happening here, doc, I’ve got to be honest. Probably a bit of fatigue, these things do happen as you get older. The odd bit of backache, no real other problems. My mom had a heart attack at 68, so I’ve got a few years on her yet.” He chuckled.

“Do you understand why I’ve been called to see you in the ER?” He asked, waiting to gauge what he knew.

“Something about the scan, not quite normal. I’m guessing gallbladder, damned thing has always been a nuisance on and off throughout my life.” Jacob frowned at his husband’s nonchalance.

“Won’t you take this seriously, even just for a moment?” He grumbled.

“Sir, having reviewed your scans we’ve identified that you’ve an abdominal aortic aneurysm, measuring approximately 5.7cm. The main blood vessel from your heart to your belly is bulging. For the most part, lifestyle changes and regular screening can catch these pretty early on, but this one is pretty advanced and we’re concerned that you are at a high risk of rupture, which if it happened would be life-threatening. Do you have any questions so far about what I’ve told you?”

The patient swallowed thickly, his husband taking his hand carefully. “I didn’t realise it was so serious. Am I gonna die?”

“I think we’ve caught this early, the treatment would be invasive as it would involve surgery which carries its own risk… but I’m confident that you have very good potential for a full recovery.”

“Well how soon can we schedule the op?”

“Honey, you need to think about this.” The husband chimed in quickly.

“Surgeries always involve risk of bleeding, infection, life-changing disability. It’s a reality you have to understand could be an outcome. Now, I’m confident that those risks are minimal, but they are nonetheless risks that you have to consider. Do you understand that?”

“I, uh, yeah. I think so. Do I have to decide right now?”

“We have a little bit of wiggle room, but this is an urgent matter.”

“Would it be you operating?”

“Yes Sir, myself and my team.” Melendez replied, a sympathetic nod of his head.

“Then get me booked in doc, no beating about the bush. Let’s get it over and done with.” He squeezed his husband’s hand tightly, like so many patients Neil saw how brave the man was trying to be for his husband in the face of a massive diagnosis. He saw some element of Claire in him, the bold, brave and self-sufficient nature just like she had. Damn it, _his mind was wandering, he had to focus_ he thought, reeling himself back in.

“We’ll admit you upstairs, run some more tests and look at scheduling you for surgery. Do you have any more questions right now?”

“Uh, no. None right now, not that I can think of anyway. Thanks doc.”

“Alright, take care. I’ll see you upstairs.”

* * *

Neil ruffled his slicked back hair slightly as he exhaled deeply. It’d been a long enough day as it was and he was starting to wonder what Claire wanted to tell him? The fact she was willing to at least engage in some sort of conversation with him had to be a good sign, right? He’d got plenty to tell her. He was starting to plan some kind of meal in his mind, she liked Chinese, they could get takeout. Or maybe she was in the mood for pizza? He could figure it out later. He glanced at his watch, it was getting late; surely she’d been finishing up soon enough.

As he placed the patient notes on the desk he heard a not-too-distant cry for help; it sounded like Morgan’s voice but it was deeply out of character for her. Was she hurt or in some sort of danger? Was there an emergency with a patient? He turned quickly on his heel in the direction of the shout, his heart in his throat as he wondered what could’ve taken his normally so assured resident by such shock.

“Doctor Reznick?!” He called out to her, running down the hallway. She was in the bathroom, he almost missed the turning as he burst in through the door.

_Oh god, oh god, no._ It was all of his worst fears actualised in one moment. Claire was laid on the floor, she wasn’t moving. She was clammy and pale, he watched in horror as Morgan took her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly looking for any kind of response, but she didn’t reply.

“I just found her here, like this.” Morgan muttered, lost for words as she forced her mind to process everything in front of her in an orderly fashion. She was breathing, she had a pulse, she was unconscious, but there was no obvious bleeding or injury.

Neil dropped to his knees with a loud thud, his fingers pressed to her neck, feeling for her pulse. It bounded wildly against his fingers with a poor volume as Morgan shined a light in Claire’s pupils. “They’re equal and reactive. There’s no obvious injury.”

“Claire, come on. Open your eyes for me.” He pleaded with her, pressing his hand against her face, he took her hand in his own and held it carefully but it sagged beneath him the moment he loosened his grip. “Claire, please. Come on, it’s me; it’s Neil. I’m here, I just need you to open your eyes…” Damn it, she wasn’t responding to him.

“No response to painful stimulus.” Morgan replied, Neil heard the fear in her voice; he saw the brush of tears that now stained her cheeks as her friend lay on the ground.

“She’s going to be okay.” He reassured her, although he couldn’t be sure if his words were more for her or for him. He inhaled deeply, placing his hand beneath her arms and her legs, lifting her from the ground carefully. His heart dropped further into his belly as she was so malleable under his grasp; she wasn’t her usual feisty self. She just flopped against him as he kicked the door of trauma room 2 open, placing her on the guerney.

“I want a set of obs, get me access, I want a litre of saline wide open. Get the usual bloods and I want an ECG.” He commanded quickly as the others set to work, clearly shocked by the discovery of one of their own in such a state. Morgan’s hands shook as she tried to site the needle in Claire’s arm, drawing off blood, then taking another needle to place a line.

“When did anyone see her last?” Neil demanded, Morgan shook her head with a quiet sob.

“I—I don’t know, this afternoon at the major trauma… at the ambulance bay. She said she was going to page the paediatrician, I didn’t see her after that.” She explained, he looked around the room.

“Has anyone else seen her since then?” The room was in silence, a stark contrast to the loud alarming of the monitor. “Damn it, so she could’ve been down there for hours. Did no one think to check? Did no-one notice one of their own was missing?!”

“I thought she was in theatre.” Morgan replied, quietly. Her voiced harrowed, as if even saying words took all the energy from her. Her head turned quickly as the door was pushed open firmly, Doctor Lim entering the room.

“Tell me what’s happened? We treat her like any other patient, don’t lose your mind now Doctor Reznick.” She told her calmly, carefully.

“I just found her like this… I don’t know what happened, I thought she was in the OR and—.”

“Let’s deal with what we know right now. Get the airway secured, Malek; I want you pushing that fluid through like your life depends on it. Get another line in and someone get to blood bank now. I want her cross-matched for at least 8 units, for now let’s arrange 2 units of O-negative and see where we go from there.” 

“Her abdomen is distended and rigid. I think we have a source.” Neil began on palpation, it felt so wrong to dig his hands into her flesh in such a clinical way. He wanted to apologise to her, to promise not to hurt her. “Can someone get me the fast scanner? I want to see what we’re dealing with; this could be an appendix rupture. Draw up the first lot of antibiotics, she’s looking pretty septic.”

“I’ll intubate, get me an 8.0 ET tube, how long have you been bagging for now?”

“4 minutes,” the nurse replied quietly. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Okay, great. Good job. I think she’s pretty well pre-oxygenated. I want to be ready to tube in less than one minute.”

Neil pressed the scanner probe against her abdomen, his brow furrowed, his eyes fixated on the screen. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her face. He couldn’t see the tightly fitting mask pressed against her face, the bag being squeezed for her to breathe. He didn’t want to see the traces of blood that had oozed as lines had been placed or bloods had been drawn. He didn’t want to see how flat and vulnerable she looked right now. 

“I’ve got a lot of free fluid in the abdomen, I can’t see the appendix. But let’s assume—.”

“She’s pregnant.” Morgan blurted out.

“What?” Both Lim and Melendez turned to her quickly, eyes narrowed.

“She’s pregnant. She told me two weeks ago… I—.”

“Reznick, I need specifics if you’ve got them.” Lim advised as she placed the tube. “Check for air entry? Okay. Great. Tube’s in. Take over bagging.” She stepped away, moving to look at the screen of the scanner with Neil.

“I think, maybe 10 weeks. I’m not sure… She didn’t tell me much.” Neil’s heart sunk further, a wave of sickness hitting him as he swallowed thickly to avoid throwing up on the spot. _She was pregnant_. Was that why she’d avoided him? Out of fear of his reaction… she’d avoided him. Was that what she’d been losing sleep over? Was planning to tell him later?” He took a step back, losing his balance for a moment.

“The shoulder pain, the back ache…” Neil stated slowly.

“Okay, so let’s assume this is an ectopic pregnancy then.” Lim said carefully, Morgan looked to her. Why hadn’t she noticed sooner that Claire was missing? Why had she failed her friend when she needed her most? She’d probably had some kind of symptoms that she’d tried to hide or perhaps out of her bitterness Morgan simply hadn’t cared to notice.

“We need to operate now, call ahead to the OR and tell them we’re on our way. I want everything ready to make the first cut in 5 minutes.” Neil told them sternly, as the first unit of blood was hung.

“You’re not operating Neil.” Lim explained.

“Like hell I’m not.” He growled in response, narrowing his eyes at her as she dared to challenge him.

“You’re too close to this, she was _your_ resident.”

“And she’s your now, you’re in the same boat as me.” He retorted angrily. She took him by the arm, pulling him to the opposite end of the room.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on here? Like we never played the same games. I know what she is to you. Once we’re in there, we don’t know what we’ll find or what calls will have to be made and I’ll be damned if you’re going to be the one taking those calls on your shoulders. I’m doing this because I care about _her_ and I care about _you_. You know I will take care of her, I will do everything in my power to get her out of this as unscathed as possible. You _know_ me and now I need you to _trust_ me.”

Neil placed his hand on his face, rubbing a line along his jaw, feeling the stubble that was starting to grow.

“Fine. I… I just—,” he began. The words were already failing him. “Take care of her, please.” His voice broke slightly as he spoke. Lim squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“I’ll do my best, I’ll look after her.” He nodded as she pulled up the sides of the trolley. “Okay, let’s go. I’ll walk with you for the transfer, then I’ll scrub up.” She explained as they moved out of the room, taking her with them and a trail of equipment.

“Look after her.” Neil called after them, unknowing if anyone had even heard him. He stood in the silent room, cluttered with wrappers from equipment that had been frantically opened. He sunk to the ground, leaning against the wall, his head in his hands.

_He’d done this to her_. Because of him, she was pregnant and because of him she was now dying despite best efforts to save her. If she hadn’t been so distant, he would’ve noticed… damn it, he should’ve noticed all the same. He wasn’t a med student, he should’ve recognised the signs. The referred shoulder pain, the light-headedness… there were alarm bells ringing all along and he simply hadn’t noticed. He angrily threw his scrub cap at the ground, folding his legs in front of him and leaning on his knees as he inhaled deeply.

_All because he couldn’t tell her then that he loved her_.

"Doctor Melendez, sorry to interrupt." The hospital social worker he'd met earlier peered into the room carefully and quietly, taken aback by the devastation. "I've got the next of kin for the 27 year old on the phone." 

Neil sighed, deeply. He found his feet, his hand rubbed his face, at his eyes; trying to rediscover his professional, in control reticence. 

"I'll be right there." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love and the kudos! <3 This chapter was pretty hard to write, I've been leading up to this for a while (unlike Shore and that dang S3 finale lmao) so I hope it's not too sad or hard. I find I tend to put a lot of my own feelings and experiences at work into this, so even though all the patients and their stories are totally fictional, I do feel like a lot of the team's responses to them and the interactions are quite genuine in their own way. I hope you're all safe and well though. Lots of soft melendaire up next, I promise <3


	9. The Sun Will Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire wakes with her life and her priorities changed, all the things she thought she knew she now sees with new eyes. At least she can navigate this new world with a great team.

Claire could hear, a short time before she could see. Even as her eyes opened steadily, it took her a moment to readjust as she looked at the world through bleary eyes. It felt like only a heartbeat ago that she had looked up at the ceiling to see the dirty grey mark, but now the ceiling was different, it was unusually fluorescent and bright.

“Hey, hey…” She heard a gentle voice, a hand was at her forehead stroking through her hair. The hand was warm and soft; wherever she was she was safe here. Her mouth was dry, desperately dry and a little sore and even when she tried to swallow it made little difference. Her eyes fixed on the figure; she squinted slightly, trying to make sense of the outline of the person as she came back to awareness slowly.

She could smell him, that particular cologne she teased him for and that she had seen in his bathroom cabinet before in his bathroom cabinet. She felt those warm, soft and slightly calloused fingers against her skin. The deal was sold when she felt him press his lips against her hairline as she turned her head slightly into his carefully placed embrace. It was Neil. His hand took hers that was at her side, squeezing it gently and even if her mouth was too dry to speak right now or her mind was too fuzzy to reply; she was trying to say _I’m here, I’m okay._

“Hi,” she replied hoarsely, as he slowly came into her vision. She shuffled in the bed slightly, a sharp inhale as a pain pierced her abdomen as she tried to sit up.

“It’s alright, don’t move. Save your strength right now, is it your pillow? Here, let me help.” He shuffled the pillow slightly behind her head, her neck finally resting more comfortably. She was pain free; this was different from earlier. Something had changed. She blinked slowly, trying to make sense.

Neil was sat by her side, in a large armchair that she’d seen by her patient’s bedsides enough times to know where she was, she was resting in a hospital bed in a brightly lit room as sunlight streamed through the window, casting a glow behind him. He looked exhausted, nonetheless; those exhausted lines beneath his eyes, dark circles and a shadow of stubble at his jawline. His shirt was unbuttoned, barely tucked out of his pants as she wondered how long he’d been here for. His eyes were bleary and red… she couldn’t make out whether it was from tiredness or perhaps sadness.

A realisation dawned on her, a lump rose to her throat and she parted her lips slightly with a soft gasp. She felt a pain; a different pain to the ache she’d felt in her shoulder or abdomen before, not the pain like when she’d tried to move… it was her heart and it ached.

“I lost the baby?” She asked, unknowingly unsure if she wanted to know the answer. Neil moved to sit on the bed by her side, taking her hand tightly in his as he pressed her hand against his face.

“Yeah.” He told her, his voice unusually shaken, it sounded as if the words had knocked the air from his lungs. He had tears in his eyes as he pressed a kiss against the palm of her hand.

“I’m sorry.” She replied, her voice breaking. He ran his free hand across her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, none of this is your fault. I’m sorry you went through this alone, Claire. If I’d have known— I don’t know. It wouldn’t be any different, but at least you wouldn’t have been alone.”

Her heart ached so deeply as she grieved for what she’d lost, as if the chance to begin a new life had been snatched from her. All those daydreams of ice cream in the park, days at the beach or museum visits had been dashed. She’d dared to imagine Neil in those visions, somehow they were a perfect family and _god_ , did she want a family. It hit her that after all, all her fears about motherhood had been allayed and she no longer had to worry about being a bad mom or how to build a career and manage a relationship while trying to grow to be a better person… all while raising a small person. But she’d wanted that, she didn’t know how it would’ve worked out, what Neil would’ve said, how their plans and lives would’ve changed but it didn’t matter now.

“You’re not angry?” She asked, her voice high in pitch as she strung together words, trying to make him understand some part of what she was thinking.

“Not angry, no, never angry Claire—not with you.” He kissed her hand again and she shrunk into his embrace as a hearty sob escaped her.

“I think I wanted to be a mom, after all. I just didn’t realise until now… I wanted to have a family and I wanted you to be a part of that and it’s all gone now.” She whimpered, her words spliced by sobs as he pressed a kiss against her forehead, placing his head against hers.

“When you’ve healed and grieved… when you’re ready, Claire if you still want that, I want that to. More than anything, I want to be a family with you. I love you in more ways than I can tell you and it was so hard for me to say I loved you because I was afraid—.”

“I know you love me, I always have. I didn’t need you to tell me, but hearing you say it… I love you too.” His hand was at the nape of her neck, cradling her gently as she lay in the bed, her arm slowly rising to wrap around his neck. His tears ran down his cheek as he tried to inhale, to soothe himself in her embrace so he could be strong for her; like she needed him to be right now. “I just… my heart really hurts right now and it feels like I’ll never recover from this.”

“My heart hurts too; but it’ll get better with time. It’ll never completely stop hurting, but it’ll just hurt a little less eventually.” He pressed a gentle kiss against her lips that she desperately wanted to return, but it felt like all the energy had been sapped from her. She felt like a wilting flower under the rays of sun and even in his embrace, she felt an aching and a longing.

“I don’t know what to do.” She admitted.

“Just rest, for now. You don’t have to do anything, just rest until you’re strong and well again. We can figure it all out later when you’re better.”

“Will you stay here, with me?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

* * *

Neil had fallen asleep by her side, she’d encouraged him to go and at least get a shower and a change of clothes, he just looked so exhausted but he’d refused, explaining that he wanted to stay by her side for a little while longer. Reluctantly, realising it was a battle she wouldn’t win, she had agreed. He’d fallen asleep in the armchair by her bed, she’d propped herself up slightly, pushing herself to just do something a little more, just one more limit she was pushing so she could make her way to the safety of her own home faster.

Being here in this hospital bed felt like being on display in a zoo, it was her workplace and she couldn’t help by shy away from the attention she was receiving from kind well wishers. Most of the surfaces in her room had been adorned by flowers, chocolates, balloons and bears, all with wishes of returning to health soon for her.

“Hey.” Lim announced quietly, sliding the door of the room open, casting her eyes briefly over the sleeping Neil, then focusing her attention on Claire entirely as she sat on the edge of her bed.

“Doctor Lim.” Claire acknowledged softly, just as quietly, trying to not disturb Neil seeing as he’d finally managed to find rest. 

“Audrey, please. How are you feeling?” She asked, placing her hand over Claire’s hand gently.

“I, uh, feel well. Just a little… lost.” She replied. Lim nodded slowly in reply, her brow furrowed with a look of mournful empathy.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Claire. I really am. By the time we’d opened you up… things were pretty bad.” She told her, apologetically. Claire tilted her head slightly as tears welled at her eyes.

“What happened? Was it something I did?”

Lim gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s nothing you did, there was nothing anyone could’ve done. You suffered an ectopic pregnancy, it ruptured and it was some time before we found you and realised what happened. I wasn’t able to save your left fallopian tube or ovary; there was some internal damage, some quite significant bleeding and infection had already set in before we’d opened you up.”

Claire took a shaky breath. “Did you… did you have to perform a hysterectomy?”

Lim shook her head. “No, I managed to stem the bleeding, I washed out the infected area and you’ve had IV antibiotics, you’ll need to continue those for a short while, then hopefully we can discharge you with oral antibiotics to home.”

“I’m so sorry.” Claire wiped at her eyes, trying to brush away any tears. Lim gave her a reassuring smile, a hint of sadness in her own eyes.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Claire; you’re an exceptional doctor, a brilliant surgeon and if you want it I’d be more than happy to provide you a glowing reference for the fellowship in Ontario, I think the world of trauma would be very fortunate to have a surgeon like you joining its ranks. But right now, don’t think about any of that. Just rest and heal, take some time to grieve. You’ve not let anyone down, least of all me. Okay?”

“I didn’t realise until now that I wanted to be a mom. I worried about the implications on my job, my career, my relationships so much and now I feel empty and lost because I lost something that I never realised how fortunate I was to have something I didn’t know I wanted.” Audrey pulled a handful of tissues from a box, handing them to Claire as she took her hand again, stroking the back of her hand reassuringly.

“There’s no reason why there’s not a chance for that to come again, Claire. Don’t be so hard on yourself… where the embryo had implanted, there was no chance of a full-term pregnancy. There was nothing you or anyone else could’ve done, it was all just a really messed up but natural thing that can happen.”

“I’m sorry that I lied.” She told her, her voice high in pitch, choked by her own sadness.

“You didn’t lie to me, Claire. You’re holding yourself accountable for too many things.”

“I didn’t tell you the truth about Doctor Melendez.”

Lim laughed gently. “You think I’m going to hold you to account for that? You’re a young woman in love,” she leaned forwards and rubbed her arm softly. “I can’t discipline you for something I’ve done too, I wouldn’t even want to. Neil is a good person, you both are and I think you’ll both be very happy together.”

“Thank you, Doctor… Audrey.”

“Alright, Doctor Audrey, I can take that.” She laughed and Claire cracked a slight smile. “Things will get easier eventually Claire, they’ll hurt really bad for a while, but then things will start to hurt a little less. None of this is fair, a lot of bad things happen to really good people for no reason and this is one of them, there’s nothing to learn or gain from this. It’s one of those really sad things that just doesn’t make sense. You don’t have to become stronger or braver from this. You just have to do whatever you need to do to keep going right now. You have Neil by your side and he’ll take such great care of you; but if there’s ever anything you feel like you can’t talk to him about or you want an outsiders opinion then I am only a call away.”

“You’re sure?” She asked with a sniffle.

“Absolutely certain. And when you’re ready, we can get straight back to the OR and I’ll show you everything I know, if that’s what you want. Us ladies in medicine have to stick together, especially in times like these. The powers that be will convince you it’s a marathon or a sprint or some sort of competition, but medicine will always need doctors; there’s no rush. When you’re ready, we can get back to it, but no sooner. You understand?”

Claire nodded, a small smile as she rested her head back against the pillow for a moment.

“I never expected that it’d all end up this way, but I’m grateful for your help. Thank you.”

“Rest easy, doctors orders.” She replied, taking Claire in for a gentle hug, squeezing her shoulders softly. “Analgesia, antibiotics and rest. That’s the plan right now.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Claire had rested fitfully for some time, drifting in and out of sleep without ever really having any particularly restful period of sleep. She had shuffled over in the bed slightly for Neil to lay down by her side, taking her in his arms with her head rested against his chest as he’d cradled and soothed her until she’d finally succumbed to the exhaustion that overwhelmed her. His hand had dutifully wiped away her tears, pressed gentle kisses at the crown of her head and offered her words of support and reassurance until her head had lulled into sleep.

It made his heart ache to see her hurting so much, to see the physical and emotional pain that kept her awake until she couldn’t fight it anymore and he felt a resounding guilt as if any of this was something he’d brought upon her. If there was any way to take her pain on his shoulders in her stead, he would’ve done it without hesitation. But for now, he was powerless to help her.

Somehow, despite his own exhaustion he couldn’t find sleep for himself. He wanted to indulge his every waking moment in her; with his nose pressed against her hair, he could smell the remnants of her apple shampoo that had been washed away by a more clinical smelling soap or with her slight fingers wrapped in his much larger, worldlier hands so he could feel how warm and alive she felt now… not like before on the bathroom floor where she’d been so cold, pale and clammy. He could lay here for hours on end and relish every breath she took and he could cradle her in his arms until all of her fears were allayed somehow.

In the distance, beyond the glass door Morgan cast a glance into the room, she dare not interrupt Claire’s rest; from beyond that door she had seen the way Claire would furl herself deeper into the bed out of pain or heartache or something else. She deeply wishes she’d never said those things; wishes she had stood by her friend in her darkest moments and time of need.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should look away as Neil’s eye caught hers and she wondered if she should nod her head in acknowledgement and leave the couple’s moment, to allow them to process whatever it was they were going through together. Morgan realised her selfishness in the moment and how she had immediately thought the worst of someone who she knew to be the most selfless and recklessly kind; it had never really crossed her mind before that maybe Claire and her Attending had found something special in the chaos of life… and love was never a simple affair, after all. She hesitated, fixed to the spot as Neil waved his hand, beckoning Morgan to come in. She couldn’t will her legs to move, she felt the rising ebb of shame and embarrassment and knew that right now the words of _I’m sorry_ could never be enough.

Against her better judgement, she took a step forwards, sliding the glass door open. She cast her eyes over Claire’s form in Neil’s arms; she looked exhausted even as she slept.

“How is she?” She asked quietly, a lump in her throat and her mouth felt dry.

“Tired, sick and hurting more than she’ll let on.” He replied, truthfully. It wasn’t that Claire was necessarily a desperately proud person; she could be—she had a way about her where she could shine on the spot, a smirk at her lips and a glint in her eye when she knew she was right about something. But she was the most humane of all of them in this building, she had a way of understanding people and somehow she managed to take the weight of the world and the pain of other’s on her shoulders. She was young, but not foolhardy. She had lived in ways that Neil could not fathom and she had worldly experience that he couldn’t ever dream of understanding; but she wasn’t immune to her own flaws. What was her strength could be her weakness and sometimes the world could crush her and time and time against she would still get up and say that she was fine until the air had left her lungs.

Morgan hesitated, she couldn’t even put together the words she wanted or needed to say. It was as if a sorry was long beyond suffice—sorry for the accusations, sorry for the lack of belief, sorry for her loss. But nonetheless both the hardest and easiest words felt from her as if they had been punched from her gut.

“I’m so sorry, Doctor Melendez.” Her hand reached up to wipe at her own eyes as the hot tears she’d held back for so long seemed to well and threaten to spill freely if they were not tended to. Neil pressed his own hand against his face, against his nose as the corners of his mouth shifted as he held back the tears of his own—all those tears he was holding back for her.

“I know, me too.” He replied simply and she looked at the ground, down to her shoes so she could look at anything else. Morgan had never heard that soft intonation as his pitch changed slightly before, never even after a catastrophic loss in the OR. “You saved her life.” He finally told her; she looked up sharply, disbelievingly.

“I really didn’t do anything—.”

“If _we_ ,” he hesitated as the word was caught on his tongue, “hadn’t known that she _was_ pregnant, we could’ve spent a lot longer looking for a cause… She probably would have bled to death.”

“I should have mentioned something earlier; should’ve noticed sooner.” Her voice was higher in pitch and every effort she made to sturdy herself only weakened her resolve further in front of her superior… in front of the partner of her _friend_ who’d almost lost her life over her bitterness.

“There’s a lot of things we can all speculate about, but things unfolded this way.” He wiped at his nose, Claire took a deep breath in and her brow furrowed lightly in pain even in the depth of her sleep, Neil responsively adjusting to hold her a little differently to ease her discomfort. She was a little feverish again, her body was fighting every ounce of this so hard, even now while she laid in his arms in a fitful sleep, internally her body was running a marathon at the pace of a sprint. He hated how pliable she was like this, how she seemed so vulnerable but despite it all so strong. He adored, loved and worshipped every inch of her.

“I wasn’t around when she needed me…” She complained sadly. She should’ve noticed something sooner, her friend acting differently. The more she reflected and thought through every moment of that day the more she realised the signs had been there for so long and maybe the outcome wouldn’t have been so catastrophic. She was a doctor, yet while diagnosing and working through a trauma she had somehow be blindsided by Claire’s obvious and apparent illness.

“You were around exactly when she needed you.” He countered, knowing Morgan was beating herself for something beyond her control, they were all suffering for something beyond their control. Claire was starting to stir in her sleep and Neil pressed a kiss to her forehead, shifting from beneath her so he could stand, he rubbed slow, gentle circles of her back. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He told her with another kiss.

She mumbles something in response that Morgan couldn’t quite hear and she took it as an indication for her to leave, but as she was about to turn on her heel, Neil places his hand at her shoulder with a soft squeeze.

“I’m going to see if she can take anything for the pain and fever, will you watch her for a moment?” He asked, providing her opportunity to be with Claire alone, it was the healing they both needed. She nodded, taking her station in the seat by Claire’s bed, the role taken on seriously as she furrowed her brows at Claire sadly, listening to Melendez’ footsteps getting more distant.

“Hey.” Claire spoke softly, sitting up a little to readjust her position. Morgan jumped to her feet, trying to fluff the pillows and offering her a hand for leverage that Claire took gratefully as she eased herself back into the least uncomfortable position.

“Claire…” Morgan breathed heavily, her name like a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know; me too.” She replied, holding her hand out to Morgan for her to take, trying to provide her some sort of reassurance, a gentle squeeze saying _I’m here, I’m alive and I’m okay_.

“Those things I said… I didn’t mean them, I was hurt and jealous and—.”

“It was my bad timing.” She replied, shuffling again against the pillows as the position that was comfortable a moment ago no longer was.

“No, you have nothing to apologise for. I was wrong, I was selfish and jealous when I had no reason to be because you’re my friend and if I had to choose medicine over your friendship—.”

“You’d think really long and hard before choosing medicine?” Claire cracked a joke, her chuckle coming out as more of a harsh breath with a smile at her lips.

“I’d choose you every single time. You mean the world to me and I don’t know what I can ever do for you to forgive me. If you can’t forgive me, I understand. But I’m so sorry, so sorry for all of this.” She explained, tears rolling down her cheeks. Claire tugged at her hand, pulling her towards her in the hospital bed as she used Morgan for leverage to sit up with a wince. She pulled her into a deep embrace, her arms flung around Morgan’s neck.

“It’s okay.” She soothed, placing her head on Morgan’s shoulder. “We’re okay.”

“And you… is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?” She asked, feeling Claire’s head move slightly as she shook her head.

“Just hug me like this for a minute because I really need to just cry and I don’t want anyone to see.”

“I can do that.” She replied, rubbing circles on Claire’s back, her hand brushing through her hair as Claire leaned into her, holding on tightly as she finally let out the long held back sobs. “I’m here and I’m never going away, so as long as you want me to sit here then I’ll sit here with you.”

“I didn’t realise until now just how much I wanted to be part of a family and I don’t know now whether it’s the hormones or the tiredness or the soreness but I just really can’t move on. And it’s so selfish of me now when it’s too late to want to be a mom because I didn’t appreciate what I had at the time and—.” She inhaled deeply, a choked sob and a cry of sadness.

“I know, I know. There’s nothing I can say, or that anyone can say to make any of this any better, but I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere and there’ll come a time; maybe it’ll be planned or it won’t be that you’ll have this opportunity again and even if then you decide that you do or don’t want to be a mom, then that’s fine. But no matter what, you are not an ounce of your mom, you’re the sum total of your life’s experiences. I mean look at me—I couldn’t paint a picture to save my life. I can’t even stay in the lines of those relaxation colouring books.”

Claire chuckled with a sniffle. “I think we’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah?” She replied, her hand still brushing gently through Claire’s hair. “I think so too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks so much for reading, commenting, kudos, literally anything at all! I love knowing that people are reading and enjoying this. I'm still pretty much not over the S3 finale, but I doubt I will be for a while yikes. Anyways, I tried to squeeze this one is as I'm back to night shifts on ICU for the next few nights so I don't expect I'll feel able to do any writing! Lots more soft melendaire to come. Take care and stay safe <3


	10. That One Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Neil begin to settle into a pattern of domesticity as they consider what a future together would mean.

Claire reclined deeper into the embrace of the sofa, wrapped in a blanket as she flicked through a handful of channels on the TV without any particular preference in mind. She heard the ping of the microwave, as Neil poured popcorn into a bowl. He was dressed in a t-shirt and pyjama pants that were tucked into his socks, his hair was fluffy and messy from where she’d run her hand through the neatly slicked back hair as she’d pressed kisses against his lips as he’d come through the door after his day at work.

His briefcase had been hastily discarded on the countertop when he’d clasped eyes on her, practically jumping at her suggestion of a movie on the sofa together. It was the brightest he’d seen her in some time, she slowly recovered the glint in her eyes day-by-day and was eventually starting to return to herself. He knew how much she hated the rounds of medication; the antibiotics and the pain meds that made her sleep for a majority of the day. She suffered silently through the dressing changes to the wound on her abdomen, even when he placed such a careful hands against her skin to peel away the dressing, cleansed the wound then placed a new dressing over it; he saw how she would recoil slightly and avert her gaze from the first threats of a scar she already had deemed hideous. She was viscerally aware of her own humanity and mortality and it had hit her like a freight train and there was little Neil could do to soothe this new ache other than be by her side. Day by day she grew stronger, facing it with a fiery determination or vague cynicism to not allow life to best her.

“How was work?” She asked, drawing him in by wrapping her arm around his neck as he leaned over from behind her. He propped the bowl of popcorn on the seat beside her, taking her face in his hand.

“It was audit day.” He exhaled deeply, pressing another kiss against her, he felt her smile into the kiss. This felt good.

“Oh, _sexy_. Learn anything exciting?”

“Every day is a school day. Turns out I need to do another action plan for inadequate disposal of sharps in the OR. When Doctor Lim hears, she’s gonna hang my ass out to dry. These damn residents, sometimes you give them an inch and— no offence.”

“None taken.” she snickered. “But if you take any longer coming to sit down here I will be starting to feel neglected.”

“I was just admiring the view from up here.” He deflected, with a smile, coming to sit by her side; she lifted the bowl of popcorn and the blanket as he shuffled underneath it, tucking himself in by her side.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“I learned from the best.” He kissed her cheek, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his embrace. “What’s on the TV?”

“Mm, not much. I’ve caught up on every single episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians.”

“Aren’t there like a dozen seasons?”

“You bet there are. That’s how long this thing has been going on for.” She huffed; he felt her tense frustration, bubbling out at the seams. His hand rubbed tiny circles at her shoulders.

“Hey—sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. You’re getting stronger every day.”

“Don’t apologise… I just feel cooped up. As beautiful as your home is and how much I’ve loved pruning all your plants in the greenhouse… I just miss my job. I miss the distraction of work.”

“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but one day you won’t need work to be a distraction.” 

“I just feel powerless. And like a bad doctor; all the times I’ve done or scrubbed in on surgeries and never really thought about the patient’s life afterwards.” She pressed her head in the crook of his neck with a breathy sigh.

“That’s not true, Claire. You’re one of the most thoughtful doctors out there, you’re always thinking about your patients.” He pressed another kiss against the crown of her head. She wrapped her arms around his torso, shuffling herself to rest in his lap, her legs drawn across him. His strong arms encircled her in a carefully placed grasp, trying to not aggravate the surgical wound. He knew how much of a brave face she would maintain in the face of her adversity and how much pain and discomfort she would keep tucked away. She was like a cat in that when she was wounded she would shrink away to some solitary shadows to conceal herself and lick her wounds.

She pulled away slightly, to fix her eyes on his, her hand at the slight stubble on his jawline. She watched him for a moment, her lips spreading into a broad smile.

“What?” He asked, a laugh in return as her gaze stayed fixed on his.

“I love you.” She explained, sincerely.

“I love you too.” Her told her, watching her expression shift like a spoiled child in a candy store. He loved how every single time he told her those words, she would always respond as if it was her first time hearing them. He catches her lips with his finger, pressing another kiss against her lips and savouring the moment. “I mean it, I love you.” She feels the slight heat of a blush rise to her cheeks and she tries to look away, to bury her face somewhere that he can’t see her childish infatuation. He’s so calm and assured in everything he does, he oozes experience and charisma and she feels like she’s shrinking in his shadow before he takes her face in his hands again and traces the line of her jaw with his finger.

He notes the way her brow has furrowed, she’s thinking about something he can’t discern, even when her nose wrinkles as he presses tender kisses to her.

“I don’t think I’m ready to go running just yet, I definitely couldn’t chase after you at the moment. But maybe the day after tomorrow we could go for a walk together? I want some normality, I’ll start to lose motor function soon and I want to be running rings around you again in no time.” She teases, he places his hand at the crook of her knees, holding her in her position on his lap as he traces long lines along her thighs.

“You always run rings around me, regardless.” He assures her, she places her hand on top of his, wrapping his fingers around hers.

“Did you mean it, when you said that maybe in the future… we could try again? For a family, I mean.” She asked, her fingers playing with his. She noticed just how small her hands seemed to be against his; she thought about all the surgeries he must’ve done by now, all those lives saved and improve by such experienced and knowledgeable hands, two fingers took the pad of his forefinger in between her own, just idly toying with it.

She seemed so lost in her own world, he wanted to draw her away; even now in his embrace she seemed so unsure of her place in the world. What had she endured in life to be so uncertain of being loved?

“If you wanted to; then I would want that to. But we don’t have to talk about these things right now. For now, you just have to heal and recover.”

“I’m sorry, that I lost it.” She said, still toying with his finger, looking down.

“No, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He pulled his hand away, taking her hand, holding it to his face and kissing her palm. “I’m sorry that you’ve been so unwell and that I had allowed you to distance yourself from me.”

“You didn’t _allow it_.” She corrected, he nodded, knowing she was right. Even when she had tried to avoid him and to draw away from him to hide her own secrets away, he’d still followed her. For as stubborn as she could be, he was equally just as persistent.

“I know,” he paused to press another kiss to her hand.

“Then we agree, let’s not be apart again.” She affirmed and he smiled.

“I agree.” He nodded, she dipped her head and with it a strand of hair tumbled from behind her ear, she moved her hand to replace it back behind her ear, he ran his hand through her hair, repositioning as he knew she liked. He loved how peaceful she seemed in his embrace, he loved the way her hair fell loosely, not restrained in some professional up-do, just every inch of her bared to him in her domestic bliss. “If every day for the rest of eternity you want to take a walk in the park and eat gelato, then I’ll be with you, right by your side.”

He held her close to him, revelling in the warmth of her body, the softness of her breathing and the smell of her perfume; every single part of her that proved to him that she was alive. He felt the shrinking jolt of fear that coursed through his veins, the memory of her on the ground before him, entirely unmoving. How she had been so cold to touch, so pale and clammy and how his heart had been entirely in his throat as every moment felt like an eternity as he pleaded with her, to every single deity that was willing to listen to him for her to not die… not when they had so much still to do and to live for. Even if her life wasn’t intended to be by his side, it was a suffering he would be willing to abide if she was alive, happy and safe. He couldn’t hide the slight shudder that travelled down his spine at that one particular memory.

“Okay, so tell me what’s your favourite movie and why is Dead Poet’s Society the only right answer?” She teased, shuffling on his lap once more so she could grab the popcorn, once it was in her grasp, she wrapped the blanket back around them, still sitting in his lap.

“How does it feel to be wrong? Ethan Hawke’s best movie of all time has got to be Born to Be Blue.”

“I never had you down for a crooner.”

“Well there’s a lot about me to learn, I’m a very multi-faceted person.” He teased. 

“Mm, you’re right. The whiskey, the suits and questionable record collection, when you mention it, it does all add up.”

“What’s wrong with my record collection?” He scoffed, feigning hurt.

“No man needs two copies of Hugh Laurie’s album.”

“That record is a _masterpiece._ A hundred years from now, it’ll define the music of these years.” She laughed. God he loved it when she laughed, especially that very particular laugh she did when she was alone with him, he was privy to the most private parts of her and he loved it. He loved those dimples of her cheeks when she smiled, loved the way she always licked her lips after she’d laughed… She was so perfect.

The two records were gifts, one from his mom and one from Audrey Lim when he made attending. It wasn’t even really something he’d thought about much, he’d maybe tossed it a thought once in a blue moon when he was filtering through his record collection and he’d smiled at the memory. Both had some kind of meaning to him, both were equally as important in his own private little way. He exhaled softly with a contented sigh.

“I was blessed when I met you.” He told her. She unfurled herself from his lap, finding her feet and tugging at his hand to coax him to his feet.

“Choose a record, any record.” She told him, sitting on the armrest of the sofa.

“ _Any_ record?”

“Any record. I want us to have a song. Close your eyes and pick a record.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility. What if I choose a terrible song?”

“Then you’d better choose a really great song.” She teased. He made his way over to the shelf, filtering through them. “Close your eyes, you’re thinking about this too much. Don’t you have faith in your own record collection?”

“Of course I do, my record collection is perfectly curated. But this is special, it’s got to matter.” He explained, closing his eyes as directed. The moment was perfect, she was a vision of beauty and peace in her nightgown and robe and her fluffy blue slippers. His hand settled on the spine of a record, he opened one eye, peering at her with his face scrunched.

“What are you doing?” She laughed, wrinkling her nose again, her hand covering her mouth, her fingers resting at her lips deep in thought.

“I’m looking at you.” He explained. “I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.” She smiled warmly as he pulled the record from the shelf; he had a mischievous grin about him. He held the record out to her.

“Rupert Holmes, Escape. I can’t believe you have this record!” She exclaimed, teasingly.

“It’s a real classic! Well, looks like fates decided now anyway.” He explained, taking the record back from her and setting it on the record player. “Would you care to dance?” He asked, holding a hand out to her, she chuckled.

“Yes, I’d love to dance.” She replied, taking his hand in her own, wrapping her arms around his neck, moving carefully and slowly. He placed his hands high at her waist on her back, avoiding her wound. She shuffled from side to side slowly, her body still not fully healed, she felt muscles contract and relax that felt they’d not been used in an eternity, even as she stepped in time with him. It felt safe here, in his embrace.

“If you like pina coladas—.” He began, humming along to the music; she bit her lip and chuckled. She felt a slight ache at her ribs and he moved his hand again gently to steady her as she eased onto her other foot to make herself comfortable again.

“If you like making love at midnight…” She sung along, then feeling a hot blush rise to her cheeks as she realised what she’d said, she giggled like a teenager who had been caught. Her fluffy slippers padded lightly on the hardwood flooring as she delicately shifted from foot to foot. He seemed to tower over her, even with her standing on the tips of her toes. He smiled down at her, kissing her forehead.

“If you’ll have me, I want to spend an eternity with you. I want to dance with you in your pyjamas and slippers every moment you’ll allow me, I want to wake up by your side every single day and I want to grow old with you. I want to be an elderly man who’s lived a long and fulfilling life with you, still dancing to cheesy records. I want to listen to you tell me about every single day at work for the rest of our lives, want to discuss what we’ll cook for dinner and deciding what colour we should paint a feature wall in a really tiny room in our home because that’s just it… it’ll be our home.”

She was silent, her arms still wrapped at his neck, fingers tracing lines of his hairline. She had a doe-eyed expression about her; she looked at him with wide eyes as she took him in. There was a faint smile at the corners of her lips. She wanted to be desperately selfish and to share in every moment she could with him.

“I’d like that… I’d like that a lot.” She told him, still swaying gently to the music. She pressed her head against his chest, him taking her deeply into his arms as they rocked along together to the music. “This is the cheesiest song…” She chuckled. “I love it. This moment is perfect.”

“Yeah, it is pretty perfect isn’t it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a super short chapter, I'm sorry it took me so long to write! I don't know why but after my last run of shifts I've just felt so exhausted I've not had any motivation and even though I have plans whenever I sat down to write, I literally had zero inspiration at all. It's still pretty sore about melendaire generally and as much as I love the ship, I'm genuinely still just disappointed about how Shore treated Melendez and Claire. Buuuut anyway! Hope you enjoyed it, it's just a little bit of soft fluff for these trying times. I was thinking of maybe making some sort of a playlist of the songs that have inspired me with this fic. But anyway, please comment if you enjoyed or have any feedback! It really motivates me and keeps me going, thank you so much for the kudos. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter <3


	11. Principle of Relativity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil learns that all actions have consequences and all decisions yield results. He comes face to face with a perfectly reasonable hospital administrator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA the chapter in which Neil really just can't catch a break.

“Doctor Melendez.” Neil turned swiftly on his heel in the direction of the voice, coming to face Beverly from the administrative department; he held back a curse as she cast a disapproving glance over him. He may very well be the Attending Physician for the Cardiothoracic Surgical Department, but that didn’t make him immune to the infallible morals of the admin team and he knew that. Beverly was a manager of some certain rank and her making a trip down here personally to see him didn’t bode well. She had cornered him in his office, his eyes darted to the doorway but there wasn’t even an escape route… he was well and truly trapped.

“Ms. Muntagirov; how can I help you today?” He asked, feigning a charming smile to hide the façade of his disdain.

“I saw your name listed for clinics today, however that must be an administrative oversight as it’s physically impossible for you to be in two places at once seeing as you're listed for today's conflict resolution training session. As you’re well aware, your conflict resolution update is well overdue and while I was lenient for the first year, then consecutively for the following further three months, unfortunately for us to maintain the hospital standards you need to attend. We can’t possibly hope for Carnegie Amber status if our Attendings are not setting an example.”

“These clinic appointments have been planned weeks in advance, some are important post-op follow ups and I’m listed for surgery this afternoon. It will have to wait, a lecture is not essential to my job.”

“Quite the opposite, Doctor Melendez. This lecture is very essential to your job and without it, I’m barring you from patient contact until your attendance issue has been resolved. You can email me the certificate of participation and I’ll gladly unblock this.”

“I can’t just cancel a clinic at the drop of the hat. These people are expecting to see me today.”

“And I’m expecting you to adhere to the conditions of your employment contract.” She pulled a piece of paper from a manila folder resting in her arm, brandishing it towards him, the paper bore his signature and Neil was beginning to realise the argument was lost. “The lecture is today from 10:00 until 14:00. There is a significantly prevalent problem regarding patient on physician violence in contemporary America and as a hospital we cannot be seen to do nothing about this.”

“Then I’ll reschedule my surgery for after the lecture.” He countered, a heat rising to his collar with great annoyance as she blocked him at every turn.

“I’m afraid not. The hospital is only running at 74% capacity today, therefore I can’t sanction non-essential overtime and particularly not when Doctor Cowley is already on site and operating, there’s no cause for a second cardiothoracic surgeon running concurrently at overtime rates. It simply isn’t done.”

“Doctor Cowley isn’t able to perform the lateral-flexion hyper-thoracic robotic approach—.” Neil began before he was cut off.

“Non-essential, Doctor Melendez.” She clicked her tongue at him, her contempt for him palpable.

“To the patient it isn’t non-essential.” He argued, a sneer in his tone. Beverly kept her cool, she barely faltered in his presence.

“Will the patient die in the next 24 to 48 hours without the procedure?”

“The patient has waited weeks for this—.”

“You’re like a politician, offered two responses and you still responded with neither.” She looked over her glasses at him, pushing them further up the bridge of her nose. Her eyes narrowed.

“No, they won’t die.”

“Then to the administrative team, corporate team, the board and billings departments it is very non-essential and can be re-scheduled. Perhaps the lesson to learn from this, _Neil_ , is to maintain your mandatory contractual requirements.” She made his blood boil. He narrowed his eyes, palm flexed on the coolness of his glass desk. “I suggest you make your way to the auditorium, the lecture starts 7 minutes from now.” 

* * *

Neil took a seat, he was 10 minutes late arriving, not including the stopping to pour a cup of coffee, it was probably just as well as the facilitator was already 20 minutes late to their own session. Neil clicked his tongue in frustration, tapping his pen against his thigh.

“Damn, admin got you too?” He turned his head to see Park sitting down by his side, he let out an audible breath that was halfway between a bemused laugh and a sigh.

“Yeah, looks that way.”

“Some administrator with a pretty hefty chip on her shoulder pulled me out of surgery, had the on-call resident take over from me on a solo appendectomy.” He sucked at his teeth in annoyance at the memory. “Even the LAPD didn’t have this kind of approach to mandatory study sessions. If you were in deep, out there on the streets doing the real work they wouldn’t pull you out for a Powerpoint presentation.”

“I would have assumed conflict resolution was a pretty important aspect of the job, what with being a cop.”

“Back in the Academy they’d drill this kind of stuff into you, it’s the kind of thing you learn over a year in theory and then years in practice. Never seen a single situation pan out the way they teach you it will.”

Neil scoffed in some sort of agreement. He nodded and folded his arms, visibly tense in his position. Park heaved a sigh as he settled into his place. The session facilitator arrived and began to fuss with a laptop and overhead projector, it seemed like the guy had never worked in this place before and even seemed relatively perplexed by the location of the on switch for the projector. It took Neil by a certain kind of surprise when the man finally introduced himself as Matthew Graham from Internal Affairs, apparently a veteran of the hospital having worked in this building allegedly since the foundations were first laid.

The guy seemed clammy, maybe that was just his general appearance and perhaps Neil was already thinking too deeply; trying to make a problem out of nothing. Maybe it was just plain avoidance of what he was supposed to be doing.

“How’s Claire doing? She had us all pretty scared back there.” Park finally expressed in a hushed tone as the man set about beginning his presentation, introducing his idea of a _fun_ ice breaker.

“Hurting, fighting, getting there.” Neil remarked without really thinking about the question, before realising the weight and depth of what he was admitting to. Somehow it hadn’t really occurred to him before that when he’d returned from his absence at her side he’d be fielding questions about her like he was her PA. He hadn’t really even considered if she’d want people to know these things, she was a pretty private person after all and she would fight her own battles solo to a fault. She was as stubborn as an ox at times and he’d watched the way she would shrink away at any question about her wellbeing, as if it was prying too deeply into her persona or maybe she just didn’t feel worthy of that level of interest.

“I’d heard from one of the circulating staff more than once that it was a bit touch and go; they didn’t know if she’d pull through.”

“Yeah, well, you know Claire. She’s a fighter.” He replied with a forced smile.

“All the same. I’m sorry for it, sorry for your loss. Planned or otherwise, it’s a pretty steep loss to take. I went home and called my son after the surgery. Reminded me of the important things is life for sure. Not some career or program.”

Neil nodded, barely taking in his words. He’d disappeared already into his own world in his mind and in his mind’s eye again he saw her unmoving on the ground, in the ICU as they hung units of blood to replace her own blood-loss or how at a point she’d been dependent on a ventilator to breathe when her own body had been too exhausted to manage something so fundamental with a furious fever after abdominal sepsis had set in after prolonged time following the event before her presentation. It all seemed like more of a miracle that she’d survived and that he’d been blessed with a second chance to make it all right for her, he’d forgotten for some time the loss he felt when he realised he hankered to be a father for a life he’d not known about until it was already too late and his heart ached for Claire’s own sadness. She hadn’t been herself since; she’d been quieter and overly critical of herself. Now there was his resident sat next to him, but he was a man who was a father with a fractured relationship with his family and maybe somehow he was someone with some experience or insight into anything he was feeling but didn’t want to say. He was an expert in the field of cardiology and when he was operating, he could easily drift to autopilot on his own or he could monologue his way through a procedure but outside the OR and away from Claire he felt stripped of any normality.

“She’s blaming herself for it, a lot.” He finally confessed, still in a hushed tone as he barely took his eyes from the instructor.

Park nodded, Melendez was close to his own age, but their experiences seemed so vastly different and the paths their lives had taken had now met to face the same goal, Park had taken a much different route to this point. He’d felt his own losses too along the way and his distance from his son was only one of them.

“When I was a rookie, just out of the Academy I was seeing a girl and we were young and I was only focused on becoming the best Officer out there and she got pregnant, she was killed in a reckless drive-by shooting. It turned out the kid wasn't even mine, but it still took me a long time to process it all. For a while it made me reckless, I wanted to be the best police officer out there, decided getting rid of all the criminals to make the world a better place was how I was going to fill this hole in my life.”

“I'm sorry for your loss.”

“Then I met a girl, got married, had a kid; all those dangerous runs and car chases suddenly didn’t seem so important. It was just about getting home to chop the veg for dinner. What I mean, is that things happen and the choices we make at the time aren’t always the right ones, or the best ideas in the long-term, but you have to keep moving because the world keeps changing and you have to be ready for every opportunity.” He offered sagely. Melendez nodded again at the advice, it seemed sensible and applicable.

Neil cast an eye back to the man; Matthew Graham. He kept rubbing at his shoulder, persistently so. It seemed like every twenty words or so his sentences would be broken by a cough or he’d clear his throat before taking a long sip of water. 

“That’s fair.” Neil finally replied, drawing his attention back to Park, albeit with a slightly furrowed brow.

“Sometimes we make decisions that are major u-turns on everything you’ve ever lived for and sometimes the decision is just for things to stay the same. They’re all changes and opportunities.”

“Thanks man, I appreciate it.” He offered, Park clasped his hand on his shoulder with a pat. 

“I hadn’t really thought of it until—.” Neil began, his words interrupted by a thud. His eyes quickly averted without hesitation in the direction of the noise and he found his feet just as quickly. Matthew was on the floor and from this poor vantage point he didn’t seem to be breathing. He darted in his direction immediately, falling to his knees in an uncomfortable hunched position between how the man had fallen and the podium. He cursed quietly under his breath as his fingers reached for his neck, re-adjusting on the off chance that the lack of pulse was some sort of technical error on his part, despite years of practice.

“What’s going on?” Park was quickly at his side, taking the man’s head in his hands, tilting his head back and propping his jaw forwards. “Can someone call a code blue?” He called instinctively.

Melendez shook his head. “Damn it, he’s arrested. Looked like he had some kind of shoulder pain earlier.” He narrated as he shifted his weight to begin compressions.

“So MI, PE, hyperkalaemia, ruptured AAA or ruptured just about anything.”

“Let’s level the playing field and get him to the ER.” He synced his rhythm carefully as someone pulled the defib pads from the trolley, propping them on Matthew’s chest just as Melendez apologised to his unhearing ears for tearing open his shirt. “Pulseless arrest, no electrical activity. Get him on the gurney and let’s get him to the ER now please.”

* * *

_Will be home soon, sorry I’m late. Fancy pizza from Giorgio’s?_

Send.

“Doctor Melendez, can I have a word please?” Beverly was at his office door once again, unannounced.

“If you’re here to reprimand me for operating instead of practicing conflict resolution, Doctor Cowley was already in the OR with an aortic dissection and I could hardly be at the presentation seeing as it was the tutor on the table of the cath-lab while I repaired his occluded artery.”

“I actually came by to thank you for your work today. For your quick action, a colleague’s life was saved. However, I noted that during the procedure you used the Supaflex catheter, was there a particular clinical indication for this?”

“Personal preference. The guide-wire is sturdier, plus designed to prevent occlusion from plaque formation or infectious biofilm.”

“I’m aware of what the advert states, however perhaps I might recommend you practice at greater length with _cheaper_ alternative catheters. This patient, like many has a basic insurance policy and as his employer in a workplace medical emergency _we_ are being strongly encouraged by the board members to meet the costing overlap. Doctor Melendez, you’ve just cost this hospital $14,000 on personal preference alone.” She looked down her nose at him, she had a very particularly honed aura of a Victorian nanny and he was a child being reprimanded.

The cellphone on his desk vibrated, it was Claire. His eyes cast downwards briefly, then back to the woman in front of him.

_Pizza sounds great. See you soon._

“Ms. Muntagirov, I’ve heard many of your arguments today. When you are able and willing to complete the proposed procedure in OR in my place, I will gladly step aside and allow you to carry it out using whatever stenting material you choose; even if your preference is a plastic straw. For the meantime however, I am the Attending Physician for this specialty within this hospital and the budgetary demands lay and stop with me. Now I gladly take on board your _advice_ , however at this time I will be politely declining any further input. Please do see yourself out, I’m sure you know the way by now.”

She huffed and he could’ve sworn she looked like a common pigeon puffing her chest to assert her authority over him. His temperament was waning rapidly. He placed the last of his papers in his briefcase, flinging his jacket over his shoulder recklessly and his hand scooped at his hair that had become slightly dishevelled by his scrub cab and the wear and tear of the day.

“I have to go. Take care of yourself.” He offered politely, pushing past her, leaving her to huff and flounder at his empty office.

* * *

Morgan was making her way back through the parking lot when she clasped eyes on Melendez at a distance. She’d just completed a 24 hour period on call at a relentless pace in the crux of the busy hospital, until she’d seen him she’d practically been dragging her aching body home, but now broke into a run to catch up to him.

“Doctor Melendez?” She called out to him from a few meters away, he halted for a moment and looked around, visible confusion plastered across his face.

“Oh, hey.” He remarked as she finally came into the light of an overhead lamp. “Busy shift, sorry I didn’t get around to that chat you asked for. I have however had a skim-read through your research proposal and I think it sounds good to run.” He commented, she could see even now under the cast of the night setting in that he was tired, even though the lighting only made his skin look more sallow.

“Oh, thanks.” She remarked, catching her breath for a moment, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Actually, it’s about Claire. I spoke to her on the phone earlier and she sounded good… _really_ good actually. Is she okay?” She asked with her brow arched with concern.

_Damn, she really did look tired._ “Mm, yeah. She’s doing okay. The wound’s healing and the antibiotics are doing their job. I guess she’ll be itching to get back to work any day now.” He let out a breath that sounded something like a chuckle.

Morgan nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I bet she will. I mean though… is she _okay_?”

“I think your guess is probably as good as mine. She’s holding it together. Sometimes I don’t know if she’s being brave or…” He trailed off.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. She’s a pretty amazing person. Look, I’m sorry for anything—.”

“Forget about it, there’s no apologies to be made here.” He reassured her, placing his hand on her upper arm, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“Can I speak frankly for a minute? I know you’re my _boss_ and I’m just a resident but—?” She asked carefully. He glanced down at his watch carefully, trying to avoid her noticing him. Damn, he was tired, it was late and Claire was already waiting up for him.

“Uh, sure.” He relented.

“I’m worried about her.” She began, almost blurting the words out.

“Me too.” He remarked in reply, slightly confused.

“No, I mean… It’s just that…” She stopped, trying to figure out her phrasing. All the time she’d spent preparing this conversation and it felt like every rehearsal had vanished from her mind. “It’s just that it’s really hard being a doctor _and_ a woman.”

“I don’t think I quite follow…?” He asked, suddenly feeling more awake. He tilted his head.

“Women doctors who date their seniors or even just fellow doctors tend to get a type of branding attached to them… no matter how unfairly. I just— I worry for Claire. She’s worked so hard to get this far and you and I will always know she got this far because she works so hard and so tirelessly to be a really brilliant doctor; but to some people at a glance if they see you’re together they might think she got an easy ride or something… I just don’t want to see her getting hurt or passed up for this fellowship by someone who doesn’t really _see_ her.”

“I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having…” He stated sharply.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be a woman and a doctor and for everything she’s earned already she’s had to work twice as hard as someone like Park or Murphy to get this far.”

“She did that all herself, I had no involvement in any of that.”

“I know that and you know that… There’s already rumours going around about favouritism and how the baby’s yours and that maybe you two had some sort of _affair_ or something together.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.” He spoke curtly now, growing defensive on Claire’s behalf. He curled his lip, trying to rise above the comments as an experienced, more practiced senior doctor with a level head.

“You know how much medicine means to Claire and I’m just asking you to think about what I’m saying.”

To a degree, she was right. He knew there was some sort of truth ringing in her words and he hated every moment of it. He knew there were always assumptions and connotations attached to every workplace relationship and he’d learned that firsthand with his relationship with Lim, it was always a complex field and rumours could spread fast and while he could take each and every punch the world wanted to throw at him, equally he wanted to shield Claire from as much of it as he could and to encourage her to thrive in every way.

“Doctor Reznick, I think you’re overtired and perhaps should make your way home and I’ll try to forget we ever had this conversation.”

She nodded slowly, taking on board his defiance. Hoping that at least something she’d said would cause him to think, or maybe something would resonate with him. She’d already seen how much harm had come Claire’s way following her entirely reasonable allegations against Doctor Coyle. Medicine and relationships typically didn’t mix and for that reason this far she’d avoided them like a poison.

“Okay, well, goodnight Doctor Melendez.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daang, April went so fast. Sorry this reply is so late! I actually started writing another chapter, but then realised I was missing something chronologically so I guess this is kinda a filler, but at least the next chapter is half written now! I've been getting super into The Rookie also and I'm really hoping with this season finale Chenford doesn't take a similar turn to Melendaire. Also yes lmao, I really did completely avoid any medical procedural writing bc I just really didn't feel like engaging my brain today lol. Thanks for the love! <3


End file.
